


Double Identities

by Shortsandramblings



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 69,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsandramblings/pseuds/Shortsandramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow never really existed; no it was Baelon Targaryen hiding under an alias, until the Targareyn’s came back to power. Not many people know who Jon Snow is or was. Baelon Targaryen has a family, is one of Westeros’s most eligible bachelors, who loves life and all its pleasures. Jon Snow is the shadow of a man, someone haunted by his past.</p>
<p>Sansa Stark doesn’t exist anymore. To the world, Sansa Stark died when she was 14, after being abducted by the Lannister Family; to the Agency, she is Mercedene, one of their best field agents. Only to herself she is still Sansa Stark, the last of her pack.</p>
<p>In this story, Sansa’s childhood/adolescence is to that of the books (but in modern times) but after the Vale she is found and is 'forced' once more into hiding and join the House of Black and White, a private sector secret organisation that sometimes works for the government, doing jobs from ‘bodyguard’ to mercenary to contract killing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue – Red and Black

 

Red - Sansa Stark’s life had revolved around that colour.

 

Red had been the colour of her hair; her mother’s hair.

Red had been the colour of her Lannister prince charming.

Red had been the colour of her bed the day she became a woman.

Red had been the colour of the sword the day her father died.

Red had been her prison: the Red Keep they called it.

Red described the wedding her mother and brother had  attended.

 

But she hadn’t been Sansa Stark since she was 14 years old.

 

Black - Alayne Stone knew only black.

Black was her hair.

Black was the colour of her clothes.

Black had been his gloves when her father had kissed her.

Black had been the colour of the moon door, the day her aunt fell through it.

Black was the colour of her father’s secrets and lies.

Black was the colour of Sweet Robin’s coffin.

 

But now the red seemed to cover the black.

 

All around her, red surrounded her once more. The Black dagger in her hand was shining crimson. Her father’s lifeless body and the floor were covered in blood – his blood.

 

Red was the High Hall of the Eyrie the day Alayne Stone died, and Sansa Stark came back to life.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Black and Red – the colours of Baelon Targaryen family.

 

Baelon had only known red.

 

Red had been the sky at his birth.

Red had been the sheets his mother died in.

Red had been the cloaks that wrapped the bodies presented to Robert Baratheon.

Red were the mountains in Dorne he was hidden in.

Red was the viper who hid him.

 

However Baelon Targaryen never really existed.

 

Jon Snow knew black and red.

 

Black had been the ship that brought him North.

Black was the ‘castle’ he had trained in.

Black was the colour of his weapons.

Black were their cloaks to keep them warm.

Black were the nights on the Wall

Red was the colour of Ghost’s eyes.

Red had been the colour of his closest friend’s hair at the castle.

Red had been the colour of Ygritte’s hair, his first love.

Red had been the Twins the day his brother-in-arms died

Red had been the snow the day Yrgitte died.

 

Red was the colour of the seal of the letter.

Black were the words:

_Daenerys Targaryen has come out of exile._

_Aegon Targaryen and Rhaenys Targaryen have come out of hiding._

_The Targaryens are back._

_It is time for Baelon Targaryen to return_.

 

Black was the room of the Commander of the Night's Watch the day Jon Snow died, and Baelon Targaryen came back to life.

 


	2. Chapter 1 – Assignments and Obligations

 

SANSA / MERCEDENE

 

_Aim, breathe, shoot._

_Aim, breathe, shoot._

_Aim, breathe, shoot._

_Aim, breathe, shoot._

_Aim, breathe, shoot._

_Aim, breathe, shoot._

 

After emptying the magazine, she took off the protective ear and eye gear, and went to see her handy work at the other end of the field, 50 meters away.

Sure enough, six holes were neatly placed within the target. Three in the heart, two in the head, and one between the legs for good measure.

She had shot targets now for nearly a decade, but she couldn’t help but feel a little pride on the result.

 

“Merc… Merceee… Mercedene”

She let out a sigh. No matter how many times she had been called that name, she never got fully use to it. To the agency she might be Mercedene Black, but to herself she’d always be Sansa Stark. A man long ago had forced a new identity on her, making her forget who she was, her past. Since the day Alayne Stone had killed her father, Sansa Stark had made a vow to herself that no one would ever control who she was anymore: not Joffrey, not Cersei, not Petyr, not even the agency.

For all his tricks and deception, Petyr had been useful for his lessons on how the world worked:

_‘We’re all liars; you need to learn to be better than them before you play the game.’_

_‘Everybody dies sooner or later. Don't worry about your death. Worry about your life. Take charge of your life for as long as it lasts.’_

However, even though his teachings were for Alayne Stone’s ears, it was Sansa Stark who had heard them.

 

“Mercedene, can you not hear me?”

She turned around with another sigh. “Yes I can hear you, but I chose to ignore you.”

Harry made a face, but decided it was best not to respond to the comment.

“Jaquen wants to see us. Apparently he’s received word from up-top, and is giving us our new assignments today.”

After another glance at her target, Sansa nodded: “Lead the way.”

 

As they got closer to the complex, Sansa quietly asked her field partner if he knew what the mission would be.

Harry turned to her with a smirk: “Apparently we’re going to babysit some bored little rich kid.”

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON / BAELON

 

“Bae… Bae…”

 

He stirred at the sound of his name. After a few moments, he was able to force himself to sit up, his thoughts still groggy from sleep and last night’s consumptions.

 

“Bae… where the fuck are y- Oh hello bro… see you continued the party after the club last night.” His brother grinned at him from the door of the room.

Jon slowly stood up, still not really paying attention to his brother. Instead he went to the adjoining bathroom, took two Advil’s from the cupboard, before jumping in the shower.

Aegon, who had followed him into the bathroom, asked: “Soo... who’s the lucky lady?”

Baelon didn’t respond. Instead he continued to wash himself silently, praying that his brother would take the hint and leave. Unfortunately, when he got out of the shower, his brother was still there, holding a fresh towel for him to dry himself with.

Aegon grinned: “You don’t know do you?”

As they walked back into the room, he quickly took a peak at the female figure lying down on the bed. She was beautiful, he’ll give her that with her long blonde hair, her womanly curves, but he wouldn’t bother even trying to remember her name. She had been a good distraction last night, and that’s all she would ever be. Any woman who wanted different should go to the other brother.

Ignoring his brother once more, he quickly put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and headed to the kitchen, and turned on the coffee machine.

“I’ll have one as well” His brother called behind him.

After taking a sip of the hot coffee, Baelon finally turned to his brother and asked: “What are you doing here?”

“What? Cant a brother come and see how his little Bae is doing?”

Baelon glared at him, waiting for another response. Aegon sighed: “Fiiinnnneee… Rhae sent me… and Dany. They are worried about you.”

“Tell them I’m fine. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Of course there isn’t”, his brother scoffed sarcastically.

“Nothing is wrong. The deal with Braavos is nearly finalised, all my other cases are on target. Seriously everything is as it should be.”

“I’m not saying that Baelon Targaryen, the businessman is not fine. Our family is saying that Bae, our young and innocent younger brother, has maybe lost his way. Dany’s is worried you’re going to end up worse than Obe.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean: our sister and our aunt call you the ‘ _Secret Man-Whore of the Seven Kingdoms’_. Gods, you’ve probably bedded more women in the last years than Chataya’s most profitable girl has bedded men. At least Obe is now more or less settled with Ellaria. Well that is if you don’t count the occasional threesome, or boy or girl of the side.” Aegon added with a wink.

“What do you care if I bed every girl in the Seven Kingdom?”

“Because Dany apparently has plans to make you more of a public figure; make you take more responsibilities. She wants you at the foreground of the company and our name.”

“Really? Me? The bastard son of the great Rhaegar Targaryen?”

Aegon’s usually joyful face, turned a irriated: “You’re not a bastard, so stop calling yourself that!”

After composing himself, Aegon continued: “No, you are my and Rhae’s brother, Dany’s nephew: you are our family. That is why she plans to name you Head of the Northern Branch.”

Baelon turned to face his brother in shock. - _North! I’m going North?!I haven’t been there since … since when Jon Snow left it..._

 

Pushing back the memories of his past life, Baelon asked: “Really?”

Aegon grinned, finally getting a reaction from his brother: “Yes. Dany wanted to tell you herself, but you were just so moody, I couldn’t wait. Just act surprised when she tells you ok.”

“When?” Baelon asked, not able to hide his eagerness.

“There are a few things to sort out, but they will announce it on the news by the end of next week, and you’ll be able to move to Winterfell Headquarters by the end of the month.”

Baelon’s grin fell a tiny bit at the response: “A month? … What do you mean ‘a few things to sort out’?”

“Calm down Bae. It just the usual stuff: signing a few papers, transferring all your current responsibilities to the next shumck in line, meeting the heads of the departments you’ll be heading, meeting your new security team, doing a few interviews, doing the whole PR stunt, attending a party which will celebrate you.”

Bae didn’t fall for his brother’s trick, Aegon had tried to subtly mention it, but he had not been subtle enough: “New security team? I don’t need a security team.”

Aegon sighed: “You can’t fight this anymore Bae. Dany was more than generous because you can ‘protect yourself’, but now there’s not getting past it: every head of Region has his own security team. No exceptions.”

“Fine. I’ll just pick one or two of my old friends from the Watch.”

“You can’t. Those were Jon Snow’s friends, not Baelon Targaryen’s. Plus that would make them a liability. In any case, Barristan has already chosen them.”

 

 _Just my luck, I’ll have a bunch of lapdogs following me around_.

 

“How many?”

“Two official ones, and one or two in the shadows. But don’t worry, you’ll barely notice them.”

Baelon scoffed: “Like I didn’t notice the last ones?”

“Trust me these are the best. They are from the ‘House of Black and White’.”

Baelon stared back at his brother in surprise: “I’m getting _facelesses_?”

“Only the best for our family.” Aegon replied with a grin that didn’t fully reach his eyes.

 

Baelon didn’t reply. There was something Aeg wasn’t telling him. His know family knew that he had worked special opps when he had been _Jon Snow_. They knew he was better equipped than most to defend himself. For them to force him a security detail, and for them to be part of the ' _Faceless men'_ , meant there was definitely something that was worrying his aunt and older brother.

 

After a few seconds, Baelon shook his head. There will be time to look into that later, for the moment there was something else more pressing for him to dwell on: _Jon Snow is going home_.

 


	3. Chapter 2 - And so it begins...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First experiences in Winterfell/ Winter Town

 

 

SANSA

 

Sansa arrived at the warehouse with 5 minutes to spare. She quickly made herself a cup of tea and loaded her computer as she waited for her de-briefing.

 

 ** _‘Ring’ ‘ring’_** \- _2100 hour right on the dot_

 

A deep voice spoke: “ _Alpha to little bird_.”

Sansa quickly responded: “Little bird here. Line secure.”

“ _Anything new to report at the office?”_

“Nothing of importance. Mr Brown visited the office today, but didn’t stay long. Mr Pink was agitated with the arrival of Red 3 but that was to be expected.”

“ _Any progress with Mr Pink_?”

“He seems to be content with my work. Has made no comment either in a positive or negative way.”

“ _Fine. ‘Dog’ and I have arrived this evening with 'Red 3'. Everything is on schedule. Have you made contact with ‘Falcon’_?”

“No. It has not been necessary. However he had already made an impression on the other secretaries.”

“ _Good. Are you on the same floor_?”

“No. Mr Pink’s office is on the 44th, whereas Mr White is on the 42nd. But women always talk.”

“ _Have you made an impression_?”

“Yes, but as you instructed, I have found an asset to push any men that are too eager, and to make sure the other ladies do not see me as a threat.”

“ _Who’s the asset? Have you verified him? How much of an asset is he already_?”

“Podrick Payne, a timid teacher at the local primary school. 10 minute walk from the office. He has been checked, came out clean. We have been on three official dates so far, and I brought him to work drinks on Tuesday. He will be accompanying me tomorrow night.”

“ _Good. Tomorrow night: are you be ready_?”

“Yes.”

“ _Remember, you mission is to learn everything on Mr. Pink, 'Black 1' does not trust him. 'Dog' and I will concentrate on 'Red 3'. 'Black 1' and 'Red 2' have their own teams_.”

“Are they our men aswell?”

“ _Not officially, but we do have one or two in their teams_.”

“Anything else?”

_“No, that will be all for now. Be ready for tomorrow.”_

 

**_Click_.**

The other end of the line went dead.

 

As Sansa put down the receiver, she thought about the last two months. They had gone well: two days after getting the assignment, she left the rest of the team, and had gone North. She was the first to start on her new identity.

Here, she was now _'Lyanna Winters'_ , a young woman from White Harbor, coming to the ‘big city’ for the first time. Within the first week she had accomplished her first assignment and had become Roose Bolton– aka _Mr Pink_ \- ’s new PA.

It had been her first test.

Only two people know she was once Sansa Stark: Jaqen H'ghar, the one who had found her in the Vale, and Izembaro, their boss. Both of them, as well as Sansa, had seen the ballistics report on the _Red Wedding Massacre_ ; they all knew that Roose Bolton hadn’t merely been injured, and had miraculously survived: he had something to do with the death of Colonel Robb Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark. - They had purposely put her as Roose Bolton’s PA to see how she would react and she had passed.

The job was going smoothly; there was always the odd request, but nothing excessive. Roose Bolton proved to be a quite reclosed man, asking for prompt attention to the work at hand, which Sansa was able to deliver. He seemed just as worried about the arrival of his new boss as the Targaryens were of him. As for his son, Ramsay – aka _Mr Brown_ , looked every bit as wild and dangerous as the files she had read about him.

The rest of the office seemed nice for the most part. The only thing that Sansa didn’t really like was the group of secretaries. On the surface, they all seemed really pleasant; the best of friends, but underneath they seemed out to get each other, seeing all the others as possible threats. But Sansa couldn’t deny that they were the best source of gossip in the office, thus her best source of information, so she played nice, and became one of the ‘group’.

They were the reason she had started to ‘date’ the sweet Podrick Payne. She remembered how when she had first spoke to him, he had barely been able to respond three words to her. But that’s what she wanted: a man that was more or less harmless, and who wouldn’t push her in anyway. He was the only thing here she felt a little guilty about: using him like this. – _There always some kind of casualty, let’s just hope it’s minimal_.

 

With a sigh, she went to her desk, and picked up the largest file: ' _RED 3-_ _Baelon Targaryen'_ – Their team’s main concern. After a month at Winter Town, the news had announced that Baelon Targaryen, nephew to Daenerys Targayen, was to become Head of the Northern Branch of Targaryen Corporations. That had been a month ago. Tomorrow she would finally meet the man. Tomorrow, their real mission started.

 

She looked once more into the file she had basically memorised for the last two months:

_‘Baelon Targaryen_

_DOB: 66 th day of Winter, 2282AC (30 years old), in Dorne_

_Fifth in the Line of succession to the Targaryen Corporations; TC, Head of the Northern Headquarters_

_Family_

_Father: {Rhaegar Targaryen} – Heir to the Targaryen Corporations, killed during shooting. – refer to Section 10 for more detail_

_Mother: Unknown - Refer to Section 15 for possibilities_

_Siblings:_

_\- Rhaenys Targaryen - Half-sister. DOB: 2277 AC (35 years old) – refer to RED 1 file for more detail_

_TC, Head of the Reach Headquarters_

_Father: {Rhaegar Targaryen}; Mother {Elia Martell}_

_Husband: Quentyn Martell [36 years old]_

_Children: Elia (7 years old), Rhaego (5 years old)_

_\- Aegon Targaryen - Half-brother. DOB: 2279 AC (33 years old) – refer to RED 2 file for more detail_

_TC, Head of the Stormland Headquarters_

_Father: {Rhaegar Targaryen}; Mother {Elia Martell}_

_Fiancée: Myria Jordayne_

_Other Known Family:_

_\- Daenerys Targayen – Aunt (father’s side). DOB: 2269 (43 years old) – refer to BLACK 1 file for more detail_

_Head of the Targaryen Corporations_

_Father: {Aerys Targaryen}; Mother {Rhaella Valaria}_

_Husband: {Khal Drogo}_

_Partner: Daario Naharis [50 years old]_

_\- Doran Martell – Step-Uncle. DOB: 2252 (60 years old) – refer to ORANGE 1 file for more detail_

_TC, Head of the Sunspear Headquarters – [soon to be retired]_

_Wife: Mellario_

_Children: Arianne Martell (40 years old), Quentyn Martell (36 years old), Trystane (32 years old)_

_\- Oberyn Martell – Step-Uncle. DOB: 2263 (49 years old) – refer to ORANGE 2 file for more detail_

_TC, Second in command in the Sunspear Headquarters_

_Partner: Ellaria Sand_

_Children: Elia Sand, Obella Sand, Dorea Sand, Loreza Sand_

_Other Known Children: Obara Sand, Nymeria Sand, Tyene Sand, Sarella Sand_

_Aliases: ‘Bae’, ‘the Third Dragon’, ‘Bae the Bastard’, ‘the Silent Dragon’_

_Other Known Identities:_

_Jon Snow – from 2291 AC to 2306 (ages 9 to 24)_

_Graduated as a Second Lieutenant at Winterfell Academy, 2291 till 2298 AC – refer to Sections 4 and 5 for more details for his time in Winterfell Academy_

_Computer Analyst at Castle Black, Headquarters of the Nights Watch, 2298 till 2306 AC - refer to Sections 8 and 9 for more details for his time in the Nights Watch_

 

Sansa turned a few pages, and continued looking over the file.

 

_‘Training/ Qualifications:_

_Basic Training in Self-Defense at the WA_

_Basic Training in Weapons and Fire-arms at the WA_

_Basic Training in Exposives at the WA_

_High capacity for learning_

_Highly qualified in Computer Software_

_Highly qualified in Hacking …..’_

 

And the list went on. Sansa turned the page again.

 

‘ _Impressions of Character:_

_Baelon Targaryen is the most recluse of the three Targaryen heirs. Less in the spot-light than his older siblings, mostly because other his ‘bastard’ identity. …’_

_‘… studious, well-organised: probably a consequence from his time at the WA. … is usually well liked in the office environment… strict but efficient… the numbers for his branch at the King’s Landing branch have increased over the years…’_

_‘… he is however known to be quite the seducer [– refer to Section 21 for list of known past conquests] and has on several occasions been titled one of Westeros’s most eligible bachelors…._ ’

 

After reading a little more, Sansa finally closed the file. She knew the file inside and out, there would nothing more for her to learn from it. After locking up the file once more, and clearing her desk, Sansa locked the safe-house, went past the various ‘hidden doors’, and left the warehouse.

 

On her way back to Lyanna Winters’s apartment, Sansa couldn’t help but look up towards the large estate on the hill. Even though it was far away, she noticed that quite a few of the windows had lights shining through them. – _Winterfell Manor has a new owner_.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON / BAELON

 

Jon looked up the steps towards the large entrance hall presented in front of him. As Baelon Targaryen he should be used to wealth, and grandeur. However he couldn’t help but still be in awe of the Manor in front of him. – _So this is where Robb grew up_?

His best friend at the Academy, and later at the Night’s Watch, had told Jon many stories about his childhood and growing up at Winterfell. Even though it clenched Jon’s heart to know his friend would never be here to show him round, Jon was happy to finally put an image to the stories of the Manor. He felt that in a way he was closer to Robb now that he was here.

An elderly man, came down the stairs, broke him from his reverie.

 

“Welcome Mister Targaryen. My name is Luwin, I am in charge of your new house. Shall I lead you inside to give to a tour of the Manor, and for you to meet the rest of the household?”

Jon, still a little star- struck by the experience, spoke quietly: “Thank you… uhh yes please… lead the way.”

The two men slowly walked inside the mansion. As the elderly Butler started telling him about the house and showing him through several different rooms, Jon’s eyes started to look everywhere. The inside of the Manor was beautiful: everything was ornate, every banister was carved with intricate patterns, every floor covered with richly coloured rugs, every wall had rows of artwork on them…

Jon was so enraptured by it all he didn’t realise that Luwin had stopped walking and talking, and that he was standing in front of six people, looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Would you like to meet your staff?”

“huh… yes.. of course.”

 

The butler slowly presented the six people to him.

“This is Nan, your housekeeper, next Rodrick Cassel, your personal valet, Chayle, keeper of the Manor’s sept and library, Joseth, master of horses, Farlen, kennelmaster, Gage, the cook. There is also Osha a kitchen maid, Hodor, a stableboy, and Hayhead, Skittrick, and Aleberry who look over the armoury.”

Jon politely greeted each of them in return but was unsure if he would remember all their names. – _Gods I’m just one man, do they really need to be so many_?

 

A gruff voice behind him called for his attention.

“We will need a detail for each of the members of the household.”

– _Of course Sandor Clegane_ , one of his security detail team. Although Jon knew there are a few members on the team he had only met two of them: Jaqen H'ghar, who seems to be head of the team, and whom he saw most of the day, and Sandor Clegane, his personal chauffeur and bodyguard. The two had proved they were efficient, and rarely got in his way, but Jon still felt irritated and wary by their presence.

After a few moments, Jon remembered the evening planned the next day:

“Is everything ready for tomorrow night?”

The butler responds in a calm but competent manner: “Of course. Most dishes have been already prepared, and the rest will come with the catering company approved by your security team."

“Good, Thank you. I should probably retire now; it’s been a long day and I fear tomorrow will be even longer.”

“Of course sir.”

 

 

Just as Jon was about to jump into bed, he heard a knock from the adjoining small room.

“Enter”

A tall man, with long hair entered. – _Ah, Jaqen H'ghar is back from wherever he was_.

“Sir, I wanted to quickly report you about tomorrow evening.”

“Of Course.”

“There will obviously be additional security, in addition to Sandor and myself: some men will be positioned on the outskirts of the Manor, and a few others within the crowd. There will also be Daenerys Targayen and Aegon Targayen security details. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“Who will be coming with me during the day?”

“Both Sandor and I sir.”

“Not the other members of the team?”

Jon noticed that the other man’s jaw twitched slightly – probably annoyed from having to repeat what he had already told Jon: “I cannot say sir: that is classified. As we have already informed you, certain team members will not be divulged, even to you. This is all done for your safety. Trust us, we are good at our job.”

“Fine, that will be all then. Be ready to leave at 0800 tomorrow morning.”

“Of course sir.”

 


	4. Chapter 3 - A First Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Welcome Party Gala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note: I know I said in the previous chapter that the party was at the Winterfell Manor but the party isn't actually at the manor, but at some hotel

 

SANSA/ LYANNA

 

It had been a long day of running around. Bolton had been on edge in the morning, with the arrival of Baelon Targaryen. So she ended up running around with handsy-fucking-Walton Steelshanks going all over town to do his ‘less important meetings’, whilst Roose Bolton stayed at the office with Mary.

In consequence she was now late. _No- really late_.

Sansa quickly removed her clothes from the day, and headed for the bathroom. After checking that her roots were fine, she quickly jumped in the shower. She then put a nice pair of fresh lingerie, then tied her triple knife sheath to her upper thigh, slid the ankle holster and her Kel-Tec P-3AT, before covering up the lot with a stunning green dress.

After doing her make-up, she put on the emerald-green tinted contacts.

After a sigh, she looked in the mirror, Lyanna Winters looking back at her. Sansa Stark would never have worn something so fitted, her eyes were blue not green, and even Sansa’ hair was a light auburn, not dark red-chestnut. No, tonight Lyanna Winters was going to her first office gala.

She had gotten ready in record time, she was putting on her heels when the doorbell rang.

As Sansa opened the door, she noticed the look of utter adoration and amazement in Podrick’s eyes, and she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of her self. “Podrick- hey. Wow you look very dashing; the tux suits you.”

“Its.. it’s huuh a rental… but you look… you look amazing, Lya.” He stammered, trying not to stare. After a second he was able to clear his throat: “Thank you again for inviting me, I don’t get many at the school.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

“Gods we arrived late, sorry Lyanna. Seems like we missed all the speeches and stuff.”

“That’s fine, I see this people every day, but I’m sorry for you to have missed all the introductions, you would of gotten a better idea of who I work for. Why don’t I go to one of the tables, I need to quickly make a phone call whilst you get us drinks? Then we can say hello to Jim, Mary and Ros.”

“Sounds good. Limoncello Gin right?”

“Sounds perfect, thanks Pod”, Sansa replied with a peck on his cheek.

As Podrick left with a slight blush on his cheeks, Sansa pressed ‘3’ on her phone and the ‘call button’.

 

_“H speaking”_

“Just arrived. How are things going?”

_“All is going well. All the speeches and introductions went well. Reds are now schmoozing and getting to know everyone. Dog is following them. Two face is somewhere in the crowd.”_

“What are your first impressions of the man?”

_“Good, decent, very business-y, maybe a bit too pretty.”_

“You jealous?” Sansa couldn’t help but grin.

“ _No way, the guy can’t smile- he’s been brooding most of the night, and for some reason the girls are finding that ‘sexy’_ ….”

Suddenly the hairs on the back of Sansa’s neck stood up, and she was instantly aware/ alert for some reason – she felt like she was being watched.

Trying to continue the conversation she started discreetly looking around her for anyone who might be potentially staring at her

_“L? …you there?”_

“Yea, sorry. What were you saying?” Still trying to discreetly look around.

_“He’s on the move”_

“What? Really? What direction?”

_“He’s … he’s moving quite fast through the room. Seems something has caught his eye… he’s.. oh!”_

“H? … you there? Where is he heading?”

No answer.

“H- you fucking prick, you going to answer me?”

But there was no reply from the phone. Instead a deep, smooth voice responded:

“Seems like a lost connection.”

Sansa turned to the side, a little annoyed with the interruption, when she came face to face with their target: Baelon Targaryen.

Tall frame, broad shoulders, dark hair – _yep it’s definitely him_.

Sansa’s mind went blank- it was as if the air of the room had just been sucked out.

She did a quick glance of the whole of his body.

His thick dark hair was almost black and he had the most intense dark grey eyes – but she should already know this… _I’ve - what? –seen his files over a hundred times, looked over all the surveillance pictures and research pictures at least ten times_.

The first that went through her head was that none of the file’s pictures did justice to his face or frame. Even though she had the pictures, and the research, she felt like she was looking at the man for the first time – No picture could live up to capture the essence of the man standing right in front of her.

He was looking at her expectantly; his question seemed to echo around them.

“Excuse me?” Sansa stammered, still flabbergasted.

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON / BAELON

 

“How did the first day on the job go?”

“Long. Met so many new people. Don’t know how I’m going to remember everyone. Though there is at least one I won’t forget: I have met Roose Bolton!”

Jon turned to his brother, who was trying to look elsewhere.

“Can’t believe you hid that Bolton was managing the Deadfort Branch! – I have to look at him every day, without giving in to my impulse to slowly skewer the man!”

Aegon sighed: “What would you have done if I had warned you?”

“Planned an ‘accidental’ death for him before I arrived.”

“Bae be serious: the company needs him, he’s very good at his job, he’s efficient. He pulls some of the best results-“

“-He was efficient and useful to Robb until he didn’t need Robb anymore and then he killed him!”

“That was never proven.”

“Please… you sound like those dumb reporters … next you’ll be telling me that he took a bullet for Robb but that it went through him anyways and still killed Robb!”

“Bae! We’ve already been through this; let’s just drop it! Today is your first day as Head of the Northern Headquarters; tonight is about Baelon Targaryen, not Jon Snow, or his friend. Enjoy yourself, schmooze, drink some scotch, make new friends …”

“I thought I was supposed to ‘mellow down’ on the ‘partying and the girls’?”

“You are- the girls especially- but it’s a party, everyone drinks at a party, one or two drinks wont kill you!”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The party was in full swing.

Dany had introduced him. He had then made a short welcome speech, to then be dragged from person to person, everyone wanting either a piece of him, or to kiss his ass.

Jon took a large gulp of the auburn liquid: “Gods I hate this part… the whole politics of it all.”              

Both Oberyn and Aegon chuckled in return: “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it with time.”

“I’ve been part of this circus for the last six years; I’ll never get used to it.”

 

Right then a few people of the office came by the three men, and introduced themselves and welcomed Jon to the North.

“Is this your first time in the North, Mr Targaryen?”

“No I-.” Jon replied, before Aegon interrupted: “He visited in his youth. Did a one year exchange at the Winterfell Academy.”

“Oh that sounds like a great idea. Did you do this exchange as well Sir?”

“No, I did one at Sunspear. Wintefell seemed too cold for me.”

 

After the two employees left them, Jon turned to his brother. “Why did you just lie to them?”

“Bae- Not many people know about Jon Snow ‘the computer geek’, and even-less know about the ‘real Jon Snow’. Let’s just try and keep it that way.”

“Fine.”

Oberyn sensing that his nephew needed some kind of distraction, said: “Have you noticed any of the ladies of the North yet? There must be one or two who wouldn’t mind a dragon warming their beds.” He added with a wink.

Aegon chastised him: “Obe- don’t encourage him!”

Jon sighed: “Don’t worry: there’s no point anyway – either they are from the office or they are here as someone’s date.”

“So?” Oberyn asked confused, as if the reasons he had just stated were utter nonsense.

“So: I only have two rules with women: don’t mix business and pleasure, it will always blow up in your face [– _Jon’s mind went back to his last black-ops mission with Ygritte, and her lifeless body lying on the snow_ ], and I don’t go for women who are already taken, that’s another kind of mess I want to avoid.”

“Fair enough – well I don’t work here, so if you don’t min-“

“-Obe, please don’t fuck someone here, it will reverberate on me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your picking up skills need to extend beyond the women in my office; I prefer not get fucked over by you, when you fuck them over, and I have to deal with the repercussions. And I know Ellia prefers if you share your conquests with her, not ‘taste them without her’.”

Aegon sighed, wanting to change the subject: “Obe, how are Tyene and Sarella doing at the Citadel?...”

Jon listened for a little while before his eyes wandered round the room. Quite a few people seemed already quite tipsy – _not a good sign_. He then quickly avoided the gaze of two secretaries who just seemed a little too eager.

 

Suddenly, it was like an apparition:                                                                    

       She stood at the other end of the room, near the exit, all alone; or at least he distinguished no one else as his eyes were focused on her. The skirt of her dress fluttered as she walked to the nearby table. Her dark chestnut colour hair had a crimson shine to it. Her dark green floor length dress seemed to perfectly fit her lovely curves; her whole person stood out against the dull background of the hotel ballroom.

 _Maybe she is lost_?

She was holding a phone in her hand, by her face, and the way her head moved subtly from side to side made Jon wonder if she was looking for someone.

What was her name, her home, her life, her past? He wanted to know the furniture in her room, all the dresses she had worn, the people she knew, the towns she visited; and the desire for physical possession was hidden under by a deeper desire: a painful curiosity that had no limits.

A small part of Jon quickly hoped that she had wandered into the party by accident, or maybe she was the date of some brother or cousin…

Before Aegon and Oberyn noticed that he wasn’t paying attention to them anymore, he brusquely walked across the room.

As she stood by the table, she was angled in a way that she wasn’t fully back to him: he could still see some of her features. He noticed that she seemed a little frustrated with the other person on the other end of the line. She kept the same attitude as he made his way towards her, only maybe getting a little more annoyed.

 

“Seems like a lost connection.”

Their eyes met.

Jon was happy to notice a little blush on her cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if that was to do with her phone call, or his presence.

She looked at him confused: “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry that is none of my business, it’s just that you didn’t sound too happy with whomever, and I was just wondering if you had lost the connection?”

She just looked at him a little bewildered.

Jon, actually pleased that he had rendered her speechless, grinned further: “I’m Baelon Targaryen.” Before he holding out his hand.

Still looking at him a little shocked, she extended her hand. “Huuu Baelon Targaryyen… I mean I know who you are. I’m … I’m Lyanna Winters.”

Now that he was mere centimetres away from her he took a better look at her face. Her eyes were sparkling emeralds, and there was a bit of colour on her cheeks, probably due to the phone call. She was like one of those antique dolls, her skin flawless, her thick chestnut hair was primly knotted behind her head looked like it would fall through his fingers like a caress.

After a moment he realised that she was finished and he was just staring at her lovely face. He scrambled quickly to come up with his next question

Jon, still holding her hand, smiled: “Lyanna Winters. Nice to meet you, Ms Winters. Do you work for the company or are you here with some one?”

“I … I work here sir.” Letting go of his hand. “I am Mr Bolton’s PA.”

Jon grin subsided a bit at the mention of the name.

“Oh, and how do you like working for Mr Bolton?”

“He’s ok, he very practical…”

As she replied, Jon quickly wondered if he could fire her- he had to save her for Roose- fucking-Bolton, yea that’s the reason he wanted to fire her and then maybe take her out to dinner ? – _or maybe that wouldn’t go down sooo well…_

“And what do yo-“

But before Jon could finish asking the question, a tall young man, came towards them and placed a drink in Ms Winters hand. “Hey Lya, I finally was able to get us our dr- Oh! Hi sorry,…” the man said before noticing Jon.

He saw her shoulders visibly relax when the man came over.

The presence of this new man, made Jon want to punch something, … or maybe ask his security to remove the man.

However, Lyanna just smiled at him, and her whole face lit up. Her smile seemed almost like a gift that she gave put to only the most worthy of people: this man, not him. Jon couldn’t help but feel a pang in his gut, unhappy that her smile was directed at someone else.

_Get a fucking grip Jon, you not making fucking sense – the woman doesn’t hoard her smiles, she’s just a normal female._

Jon cleared his throat.

Lyanna Winters, probably thinking that was a cue of some sorts, turned to Jon. “Mr Targaryen, may I present Mr Podrick Payne, a teacher at Winter Rose. Pod, this is Mr Baelon Targaryen, Head of the Northern Branch of Targaryen Corporations.

The man – _‘Pod’- what kind of a dumb name is that?_ , turned to Jon: “Soo you are the new man in charge. Lya has been telling me how everyone has been really excited to meet you.”

Jon’s grin retuned, eyeing the woman: “Has she now? I didn’t realise I was that exciting, but yes this whole party is for my new arrival…”

As their conversation continued, Jon realised this was the answer to his predicament: she had a boyfriend: she was not only part of his office, but she was unavailable, she was doubly off limits. He could live with that. Suddenly the thought of her working beside him didn’t seem so bad. – _Not that having her close was ever a bad idea_.

 


	5. Chapter 4 - Complications of the Present and Ghosts from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Lyanna and Baelon continue to get settled in the company. Sansa makes a new friend, whilst Jon meets with old ones.

 

SANSA/ MERCEDENE/ LYANNA

 

The last two weeks had been about Lyanna and Mercedene

 

Lyanna's life mainly consisted of working for her demanding boss, hanging out with the girls, spending time with her sweet boyfriend ... And avoiding her new boss’s boss.

 

The first three tasks were easy:

Although Bolton was a bit of a hard ass, she was able to juggle through all his requests with grace.

The girls were always easy to talk to, the main conversations revolving around men, and settling down.

Spending time with Podrick was always nice. He was always sweet, and attentive: making sure she was ok when he came for work drinks, giving her his jacket after their movie. Last weekend they had done a picnic in the park, making the most of the good weather before the winter arrived.

 

However Lyanna's peaceful life was shaken up by the company's new leader. Baelon Targaryen. Someone she was determined to avoid- _it’s just wrong to have a crush on your new boss_! So hoping that she would get over it, she decided to stay out of his way in the meantime.

Unfortunately that was easier said than done. Sometimes it seemed that Mr Targaryen was going out of his way to dismantle the order of the different parts of her day, but she knew that she was over analysing things, he acted the same courteous way with everyone.

Her work days always started early, coming in usually around 8:30 to make sure she was ready for any early requests from Roose Bolton. Unfortunately it seemed that Mr Targaryen was an early starter as well, and on the second day, even though there were others in the elevator, she could feel his presence near her. To make sure she never took the elevator at the same time as him again, each day she would come in a little earlier. Unfortunately by the following week he had come in earlier as well.This time it had only been the two of them in the elevator, and it had been the most uncomfortable 3.5 minutes of her life, whilst the elevator went up 44 floors. The next day she had made it a mission to come in right before nine just to make sure she didn’t see him.

However, if the elevator rides weren't bad enough, the fact that she was Mr. Bolton's PA meant that sometimes she was forced to attend some of the associates’ meetings and thus had to spend more time with the man. They had even done to a lunch meeting once and apparently Mr Targaryen had insisted that their PA’s join them.

Moreover, on three occasions when she had been chatting- laughing with the girls, he had come in to the brake room. He had exchanged a few words with them before making his coffee and returning to his office. Once he had left, the girl conversation unfortunately revolved around him, all the girls exclaiming how hot he was. Two of the girls, Ros and Jeyne, were both convinced that they definitely have a chance with him, and both were ready to make sure they would get their 'required time with the new boss'.

He had even ruined her picnic date with Podrick. Whilst they had been eating, he had been jogging nearby and had noticed them, and had come to say ‘hello’. The rest of the afternoon, Lyanna hadn’t being able to forget the glistening black hair, or his sweaty bulging arm and calf muscles.

 

Mercedene's two weeks hadn't been much better.

She had noticed two suspicious emails in Mr Bolton’s computer files. And he had left early on the Friday (something he never did) for a ‘family emergency’. The only real family he had was his maniac bastard, and Merce doubted he actually really cared for the man.

She also had to deal with the daily update calls from Jaquen. Now that the rest of the team were also here, he had become more demanding, asking her to do more research on Bolton and his bastard son. He had also asked her to do two stake outs with Harry, one in front of the Bolton residence, and one in front of Walton Steelshanks’.

He had also asked her how her interaction with the main target – Baelon Targaryen- had gone, the night of the party.

It also didn't help that Harry most of the first week kept on asking her about what she thought of Baelon Targaryen. Each time she would give vague, non-committal answers, hoping that he would drop the subject. He had finally confessed that Jaq had put him up to it to know what Merce really thought of the last dragon. After confronting Jaquen about it, he had said that one of Izembaro’s suggestions for the team had been that she should maybe seduce the man, to allow the team closer access to him. Jaquen was only trying to see if that idea was viable. She had yelled back that she wasn't the ‘ _agency's whore_ ’ before hanging up.

She couldn’t even enjoy her time with Podrick. It made Merce feel guilty everytime she hung out with him. He was such a nice guy, but she knew she would never feel anything for him. That was the point: he was a safe option, who would not compromise her in any way.

Unlike Baelon Targaryen. Eventhough she had been outraged by Izembaro’s suggestion, she also had refused because Merce knew it was best that she avoid the man: leave him to the rest of the team. Her main target of Bolton anyway...

 

 

But today she was Sansa. All the problems of the week faded away. Sansa didn’t have problems: she didn't have a fucking annoying boss who wanted her to whore herself, or a crush on her other boss, or a sweet boyfriend who's emotions she was toying with.

No today she was Sansa, and thus she went to the place she felt the safest, where all the cares of her other lives seemed to vanish, where she felt wild and free: Wolfswood Forest.

At one point it would have probably been the Godswood, but now even that was haunted by her past and her present, especially since it was right next to Winterfell Manor. No it was in the forest she was Sansa- where she felt the closest to her family, without being reminded of their tragedy.

 

Suddenly upon hearing a noise in the undergrowth, she turned to see who was coming towards her. Sansa smiled when she recognised the one who had disturbed her peace.

When she saw the white wolf coming towards her, she couldn’t help but grin. He too seemed to be grinning, whilst dashing towards her. He always seemed to want to hang out with her for some reason.

"Why hello you, haven't seen you in a while." She grinned as the great white beast came to her and licked her face in welcome before sitting down next to her. Yes, she was definitely Sansa here, she thought, as she stroked the back of the ears of her woodland companion.

 

The first time she had met the wolf was when she had first wandered into the forest after so many years.

For some reason she knew that the wolf would not harm her. He had just come up to her, and had licked her fingers, before she had patted him in return. Since then, she would try to come to the forest as much as possible to visit him. With him, she was just Sansa, the young girl from Winterfell.

 

He also made her think of Robb. – Ages ago, she had learnt that Robb had gotten a dog not long after their father’s death. Sadly she also remembered reading about how even the dog had been butchered at the Red Massacre. She liked to think that the two animals might have met and gotten along, although she knew that the thought was ridiculous.

Twice she had actually had the courage to visit the Stark tombs within the crypt, in the dead of night.

The first time she had gone she had been surprised to see the white wolf when she had come out. He had actually come in with her the second time. These midnights walks were all Sansa – the only other time she truly felt herself again. But these were also the times she felt all the guilt and dread and pain and tears of her family: those dead and those lost to her. Even though it relieved her to know that at least her younger brothers were still alive, it pained her that she also knew she could never see them: it would put them in too much danger if she went to visit them, even in disguise.

 

 

After a bit of time of them just sitting in silence, they both stood up and Sansa started throwing a stick for the wolf to catch. He had become her closest, and only true friend in this crazy world.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON / BAELON

 

Baelon’s first two weeks had passed by so fast. Jumping straight into things on the Monday, he had set up a meeting with the different associates, and setting new targets for all of them. Most of them were competent enough. He was even reluctant to admit that Roose Bolton was probably the most efficient of them, as much as it pained him to admit.

As the weeks progressed work continued to be good, interesting. He started to know the people who worked for him, even enjoying some time with some of them.

Outside of work, he usually spent most of his time either at the gym, or running in the park next to Winterfell Manor.

The only thing that disrupted his perfect routine was Lyanna Winters. The fact that she had a boyfriend, and that she worked for him should have cooled him down. Unfortunately, more and more often, he found himself seeking her out. He purposefully tried to arrive at the same time as her, to ride the elevator with her. It had unfortunately only happened three times: for some reason she seemed to arrive at different hours every day. He had first wondered if it was because Bolton was giving her more work. Then one morning he noticed her arriving much later than usual, and couldn’t help but think it was because of her boyfriend. The thought of her in her boyfriend’s arms tortured him.

Hell, he had even purposefully ran out to the park, and had interrupted their date when he had noticed them from the Manor.

He even went to make his own coffee every day, just for the chance to maybe bump into her in the break room, the two times it had happened, he had been annoyed by the fact she had barely acknowledged him, and had just continued her conversation with one of the other women.

Baelon wasn’t use to not getting what he wanted. Especially when it came to women. When he had first moved to the capital, he welcomed the hoard of women that threw themselves at him because of his name and fortune: the meaningless sex helped him forget the pain of his past life. But that’s all they had ever been: passing flings with no meaning. He never went out of his way to case someone. – Even as Jon, he had been the one to try and push Ygritte away, before ending up in her bed.

No- this was the first time either Baelon or Jon was acting so recklessly. The woman was driving him crazy.

 

Barking noises brought him back from his thoughts about Lyanna Winters.

‘Ar roof rooff’

When he heard the braking of the dog and he couldn’t help but turn around and look out the window. – _No, it’s just a mother and her children heading home with their Labrador_.

With a sign Jon turned back to the table, lost in his thoughts and memories.

Of all the things he had been excited about going back North, Ghost was at the top of the list. When he had become Baelon Targaryen once more and had left for King’s Landing, six years ago, he hadn’t been able to bring his companion with him: Dany had said he was Jon Snow’s friend not Baelon, and it would look strange for him to have a half wolf/ half dog.

Even though he knew she was right, it had been the one of the hardest things for him to do, leaving his friend behind. But he knew that even if Dany had let him, he would never have taken the animal with him, he wouldn’t let something so horrible happen to his friend. He wasn’t a dog: he was wild and he would have slowly died in the big city. Wolves aren’t meant to survive so far south. – No he had left Ghost in the North and he hadn’t seen his friend in 6 years. He was the one friend he still had no news from. He knew he was being foolish: it wasn’t like Ghost could call him and catch up. But Jon was worried; scared that something had happened to him. Six years is a long time for a wolf.

 

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Jon, you in?”

Turning back to the table in front of him he looked at his old friends – the only ones who still called him Jon: Pypar, Grenn, and Edd.

During the two weeks, he had been Baelon, the business man, taking care of his family's company. Baelon who couldn't help but try and flirt with the beautiful but elusive and very much taken Lyanna Winters.

However , tonight he was Jon. His friends had come from the north to spend the weekend and catch up with him. He couldn’t help but smile when hearing his old name.

“Don’t let Dany or Aeg here you call me that?”

“What are they’re going to do when they are all the way down in king’s Landing? – You’ll always be Jon to us. No matter how much a wealthy pompous suit you become.”

Pypar then asked: “So, how are things at the office going by the way? Everything going ok?”

Lyanna Winters’ face popped into his mind once more.

Taking a gulp of his bear, forcing her face to the back of his mind, Jon repiled: “Yea, everything is going well. The office is a little behind on certain quotas but nothing we can’t fix.”

“That’s right, there nothing Jo- oh sorry I mean the great Baelon Targaryen can’t fix!”

As he thought of the different meetings he had had, Jon suddenly had an idea.

“Actually there is something, I can’t do… that you guys could do.”

“Name it.”

“There someone I would like you to look into.”

They all straightened themselves in their chairs, Grenn replied: “Okay…. But don’t you have some super security team to do that for you?”

“I don’t want Aeg or Dany or Rhae to know about this…”

“Ohhh is it about some girl? …want to check if she isn’t some crazy bitch?”

Although, his mind popped to Lyanna once more, he answered negatively:

“No… nothing like that. Its Roose Bolton.”

“Bolton?! No Jon, not this again! You can’t go rehashing th-“

“-its not like that! He works in my office: he’s one of the associates, with Manderly, Umber, Karstark, Glover, Mormont, and Manderly.”

“-He’s working for you! Did your aunt know before she gave you the job?”

“Yea… that’s why I don’t want my family to hear about this… they know his past but they don’t believe the extent of it: they don’t think he’s a threat. I want to check up on the guy, what he’s been up to for the last decade?”

“Sure man… that we can do. Plus it gives us an excuse to see you again.”

“Yea but always out of the office ok… don’t want my security team or the dragons to think this is more than just hanging out with old friends…”

 

As they continued to talk and play cards, the idea of Roose Bolton reminded Jon of how things had changed.

He had been able to see Sam twice since moving to Kings Landing, since his friend was studying his doctorate at the Citadel. Unfortunately he hadn’t seen the rest of the boys since leaving Castle Black. He would get the occasional news, but it wasn’t until recently that his friends had slowed down on the ‘undercover/ black-ops’ missions and did more desk work.

He was surprised to find out that Grenn was actually engaged. It seemed strange to think his friends were settling down – _hey, Sam is already married with a kid on the way_.

But then when he thought about it – he had been ready to marry Ygritte, even with them being so young, it had felt so right. When he had proposed, she had said it was too soon, so he hadn’t pushed. Then, two weeks later, she had died in his arms.

No, the one everyone thought was going to take the plunge first was Robb, and he had been about to as well. He had finally started to move on from his family’s tragedies, and had gotten engaged to Talisa, a beautiful doctor from Valaria, when the both of them and his mother had been killed.

But that was all part of the curse, people said: through the years, the Stark tragedies became commonly known throughout Westeros as the ‘Stark Curse’. It had started when, over fifty years ago, Robb’s aunt had been kidnapped. The Starks had once being a prominent family in Westeros politics and government. Now they were just remembered for being murdered or kidnapped.

Not even in the last decade had the curse taken a break:

It had started with the abduction of Sansa Stark when she was 12, two years later Ned Stark, following a lead on the disappearance of his daughter, had been killed. When the Lannisters had finally paid for what they had done, and their estates searched, there had been no signs that Sansa was still alive.

Colonel Benjen Stark being declared MIA during the Winter War was actually the most normal out of all the disappearances/ deaths – he was a soldier, it’s not like it had been unexpected.

Barely a year later, Bran, Robb’s younger brother, had been pushed out of a window. – He was now handicapped, paralysed from the waist down.

Even Mrs Stark’s sister, not a Stark herself, a year after her sister’s death, had had been pushed through the Moon Door to meet the same fate.

Bran and Rickon were all that was left of the once great family. Their uncle Edmure, their only living relative, was now taking care of them in the Riverlands. Jon felt guilty as he hadn’t seen either of them in over a year.

 

Pypar, after losing another hand to Jon, grinned: “Gods who would have thought ten years ago you’d be the one here, with all the money, wearing a suit, having a real job.”

“Yea…”

Edd looked at him concerned: “You ok?”

“Yea, it’s just as you say- who would have thought. I mean this [ _gesturing the room around them_ ] was supposed to be Robb’s life not mine… “

“Jon… don’t feel guilty. You are a Targaryen. You were born into more wealth than any of the rest of us, it’s just that you found out about it later than you should have. As for what happened to Robb, none of it is your fault.”

“But I’m not a Targaryen, not really. I’m just Rhaegar Targaryen’s bastard. I don’t even know who my own mother was. Robb had a family, people who loved him, and look what happened to them.”

“Jon” said Grenn, more forcefully.

“No, don’t Jon me. - I remember the small river than went down the mountain passing our cottage, … the orange trees the only time I ran off to Sunspear. I remember Oberyn telling me I wasn’t actually his son and sending me North, where I would be ‘safer’.

But the memory I always remember the most is when I arrived at Winterfell Academy: that the first time I felt at home. I couldn’t understand why Robb wanted to go back here every weekend – for me the academy was home. But for him, his home was here with his family. I was jealous that he had a life outside the academy. And now, I’m the one with a long-lost brother and sister, I’m the one who’s stolen Robb’s home, stolen his life.”

After an awkward pause, Jon stood up, looking gloomily away from his friends: “Sorry guys for ruining the evening- I think need a walk, clear my head.“

And with that, he walked outside the room, and the Manor, towards the park.

 

Out of all the things he liked about Winterfell Manor, his favourite was that the manor was directly adjacent to Godswood Park. Outside the city was a large forest, however most of the populations seemed to prefer going to the large park at the other end. It was large enough to handle it though. In the summer time, it was where they would have the great bonfire – celebrating Aegon the Conqueror.

The main feature of the park were the blood–red weirwood trees, who surrounded a large heart tree in the centre of the park, just off the Godswood Lake. Some couples would actually get married there – Robb’s parents had been one of them.

However the most important part of it for Jon was the crypt. Although some of the tombs were in the small graveyard next to to the crypt, most of the town’s dead, including the elite families, had been buried within the many levels of the crypt located deep under the earth, in large cavernous tunnels.

 

As he slowly made his way down to the Starks’ crypt, his mind flooded with old memories.

 

He thought back to when he had first gotten Ghost.

Robb and his family had been in a dark place because Ned had just been killed and there was no sign that his sister was still alive. To try and cheer up his friend, and his younger brothers, Jon had brought them to the local rescue shelter.

That’s where they had met Greywind and Ghost. – Apparently their mother had been a wolf forced into illegal dog fighting, and she had died shortly after the police riot. She had left four pups- two of them had unfortunately not survived, but the two remaining needed a family. The Starks had adopted Greywind, and Jon had adopted Ghost.

 

Jon missed his friend. He missed his wolf. With all the emotions of his past life coming back to him, he broke down in tears in front of his best-friends tomb.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**One month later**

 

SANSA/ MERCEDENE/ LYANNA

 

The next month had been hell.

Ok maybe not hell, but pure torture.

As time went on, Lyanna had found her niche in the office and felt more comfortable with her colleagues. Unfortunately as her comfort levels increased, so did her attraction to Mr Targaryen. Baelon seemed to be born for the role of manager, he kept his team on track and had the intuition of a psychic. Before the start of each day, he already had a good idea of what the problems were and how the higher ups of the office should go about to fix them. She found herself, twice just staring at him from across the conference room, amazed by his business and organizational skills.

The more, she tried not to think about Mr Targaryen, the more she spent time throwing herself into her work. Even Merce dedicated more time to spying on Bolton or spending time gossiping with the girls, and hanging out with Podrick. Spending time in her work put things in perspective for both Lyanna and Merce.

As Jaquen kept on pushing her to find more stuff about the Boltons, father and son. She made it a point to always leave around the same time or later than Bolton. Then there was also the occasional stake out, which left her in pain all over, and tired for the whole of the next day.

Unfortunately, no matter how much she threw herself into her work, the images of Baelon Targaryen continued to pop into her head. The frustration grew by also the fact that Mr Targaryen seemed to touch her more and more. It was always simple touches, and Lyanna knew she shouldn’t make more of them than what they were. But they weren’t helping in her fight off her attraction for the man. The worse one had been when, one day they were in a crowded elevator and he stepped behind her to make room for more people. She could feel his whole body against her back.

At least, Jaq seemed to have given up on the idea of Merce seducing Baelon Targaryen.

 

As the elevator seemed to be an area for trouble, Lyanna used the stairs more and more. She would even use her morning arrival and evening leaving as part of her work out – climbing and then going down 44 floors helped with dealing with her frustrations.

 

 

Unfortuantely today, Lyanna had forgone her ‘no elevators’ rule. It was Friday and she was worn out. Moreover since it was past six, she thought most of the office had left.

So whilst she was looking over a file, she didn’t look up when the elevator opened. She simply walked forward, assuming it was empty – she was wrong. She walked right into Baelon Targaryen. The next thing she knew, she was being held by strong hands, as papers floated everywhere before landing all around them.

She was still processing what was happening, when My Targaryen apologised while steadying her: “My apologies, it was my fault. I really need to slow down.” He took a step back and looked at her. “Are you ok?”

Lyanna could only nod, her voice refusing to come.

Then they both bent down to pick the scattered papers. Lyanna was instantly aware of her skirt sliding up her thigh. She tried to inconspicuously pull the soft linen skirt down, but it slipped back up when she reached for the papers farther away. As she grabbed the last paper, she realised the lace of her thigh high stocking was exposed. She stood up immediately, fixing the skirt once more, whilst blushing furiously. She didn’t even glance up at him, too embarrassed to know if he had noticed or not. When he finally stood up as well, she quickly took the papers from his hand.

“… t-thank you.” Before, running inside the elevator, avoiding his gaze the whole time. She only let out the breath she had been holding once the doors closed.

 

That night, Sansa tossed and turned, dreaming of grey eyes, and large hands roaming her body, before finally waking up. It was past midnight, and she knew she wasn’t going to fall back a sleep anytime soon.

She quietly got out of bed and put some warm clothes on before putting her great big coat on and covered her head with the hood. As she stepped outside, she felt the crisp cold air hit her nose. She quickly fixed her scarf so at least the lower part of her face was covered from the winter wind, before stepping down the last steps, and walked towards the park.

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - -

JON/ BAELON

 

For the last month, he was so worried to re-experience that night in the crypt, that Jon forced himself into Baelon as much as possible. He worked longer hours, he concentrated fully on his office tasks, became more demanding of his team of associates.

And it had paid off: after only six weeks as the Head of the Northern Branch, Bae had noticed that the numbers were slowly increasing, and Dany had even called him to congratulate him.

Unfortunately the more he was Bae, the more he also fantasied about Lyanna Winters. Hell, he took every opportunity to touch her even if it was just a casual touch. Any excuse to get near her and touch her was good enough for him.

and today had been the highlight of his Lyanna fascination: running into her outside the elevator had finally allowed him to hold her in his arms, her body had felt to perfect. And then he had had a glimpse at her thigh – he had nearly had a heart attack.

After the incident by the elevator, Bae had gone to his office, and poured himself a large glass of water, knowing his body needed something to cool down. He needed to keep his libido in check but after seeing a glimpse of her sexy lingerie he wasn’t sure how much he could still handle before throwing himself at her, boyfriend or not.

 

Now, tonight, he couldn't sleep, as more lurid thoughts of the beautiful woman ran through his brain.

After a few minutes, just staring at the ceiling, Bae got out of his bed and had poured himself some scotch.

He then went to the window and looked out, watching over at the park.

 

There was a very light snow falling: the first snow of the year - winter was here.

 

He suddenly noticed something move within the park. When Bae observed more closely, he nearly dropped his glass when he recognised one of the two figures moving from the crypt.

While one was covered from head to toe with a big black coat, but his eyes only registered his companion: a great white wolf- _Ghost_.

Before he mind even registered what his body was doing, Jon quickly grabbed his shoes and a jacket and was running out of the manor and into the large park running towards where the two figures had seemed to be headed.

After a moment of searching he saw them by the heart tree. The dark figure was sat underneath it letting some flecks of snow fall on him whilst Ghost - he was sure it was Ghost - laid his head on his new masters lap.

Jon's heart clenched at the sight. - He use to do that with him.

 

He silently moved a little closer, trying not to make himself known and scare his old friend away.

After a moment Ghost lifted his head, probably sensing a disturbance to the peace, and after a quick rotation of the head, he noticed Jon.

Red eyes met grey and for a second Jon though he was going to run away, instead he jumped from the dark figures lap and slowly walked towards Jon.

 

The figure feeling his companion leave his lap, straightened himself and turned towards where Ghost was headed: towards Jon.

Suddenly, for a split second, his eyes met with the other person’s: _those eyes – those are Tully blues eyes_!

All thoughts of Ghost were replaced by another:

“Robb!”

But instead of responding, and running towards him, the person seemed to have started to panic at the sight of him. Before Jon could say or do anything more, the figure got on his feet as quickly as possible and ran through the trees, away from him.

“Wait!”

_Robb, is that Robb?... No it can’t be Robb, Robb is dead! But he has Robb’s eyes! … maybe it_ ’s _Bran or Rickon?... Bran’s in a chair paralysed, and why would either of them run away from me_?

As all the thoughts circled his brain, Jon ran after the mysterious person, trying to find him. He ran hysterically through the weirwood trees, but the snow was falling harder now, so his visibility wasn’t great, and the snow was starting to cover up the tracks left by the mysterious person.

 

After what felt like hours, he gave up. - Yes, winter had definitely come, and Baelon Targaryen was now lost, surrounded by snow.

 


	6. Chapter 5 – Research, Updates and Suspects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's reaction to what he saw in the Godwood and he had a few more surprises the following week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon POV only (next chapter will be Sansa)

 

JON / BAELON

 

_Light blue eyes_

_Light blue Tully eyes_

_Robb’s Tully blue eyes_

 

All weekend long, Jon had thought of nothing else but those eyes.

He had locked himself in his office ‘to do some last minute work’. While ‘working’, he had looked through all his old programs, legal and not so, trying to find a reason for those blue eyes. But he had come up with nothing: no one in Winter town or in a 200 mile radius had those eyes. This, in a way, was logical since Tully blue eyes were from the Riverlands. But even there, he had only found three people with the same eyes as Robb: his two brothers and their uncle. And according to his ‘research’ they all three had alibis for Friday night – especially Bran since he couldn’t walk.

It had been six years; he had definitely lost his edge.

After his research had come up with nothing, he had actually decided to call up on the two young Starks. Mainly because of the apparition from Friday, but also from because he felt guilty from having no news from them in over a year.

It had been so nice to hear their voices, get news from them, but it, as always, had reminded him of Robb.

He needed a drink, a few drinks.

Tonight he needed to be Baelon.

He grabbed his coat, and told Sandor to bring the car.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

He was on his third scotch, talking with … – not sure he had gotten her name – a blonde in any case.

Blondie was ramming her quite impressing and quite revealing cleavage at his chest when Bae felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning he saw Grenn.

“Hey man, sorry I’m late.”

Well it seemed that tonight he was Jon after all. He turned to the blonde: “Sorry sweets, my friend and I need some privacy.”

The girl let a sigh of annoyance but left.

After watching her leave, he eyed Sandor. He was still by the door. He quickly eye the rest of the bar, trying to figure out if any of them were possibly part of the rest of his security team, but no one popped out. - His security team had been furious when they had realised he had run out of the manor at two in the morning. Now they were keeping an even closer eye on him. – _Greeaaat_!

With a sign he turned back to his friend.

“Hey.”

“Hey- ruff night?

“Ruff weekend… but company is very much encouraged, have a drink.”

Grenn poured himself a reasonable amount from the bottle of scotch Jon had procured. After a gulp, and a sigh he took out a few magazines and looked back up at his friend.

When Jon looked through the magazines he realised within them were pages of research – research about Roose Bolton.

“That’s what we got so far. We’re still looking at his son and other known associates but thought you needed an update after a month.”

“Thanks, definitely needed this.” – _Definitely need a distraction from those blue eyes_

“There’s everything from his dealings with Robb, the Red Wedding Massacre, his relationship to the Freys, the Frey shootings, his start at T C.”

“He was involved in the Frey shootings?” asked Jon incredulously.

“There’s some speculation that he was, but most think it was someone else. Boltons aren’t really into long distance sniper shooting – they are more hands on in their killings.”

“I would have given them a ‘hands on experience’, those bastards didn’t deserve such a quick death.” grunted Jon.

“… yea, well there’s still Walder, and Walder Jr.; you never know you might someday get your wish.”

Jon flipped through some of the pages, whilst Grenn continued:

“We’re still looking into a few things… there are a few discrepancies with some of his associates but we’ll let you know soon.”

Jon looked up intrigued “Discrepancies?”

“Yea… some to do with his son… or Steelshanks…. Even something to do with his secretary. But don’t worry, nothing gets passed us.”

Jon’s heart skipped a beat at the word ‘ _secretary’_ – _Lyanna_! – W _hat’s she got to do with this_?

Trying to not look like any of what his friend had said had affected him so much, Jon replied: “Do you think that Steelshanks and his PA are working for him?”

“Steelshanks definitely. The PA… ummm… not sure. She seems sweet and innocent but hey could be all an act…no one that hot works for Bolton without an ulterior motive” he added with a grin.

Jon wanted to punch his friend, instead he said: “Why ‘definitely’ for Steelshanks?”

“Well, because of your security team.”

Jon looked at his friend confused: “my security team?”

“Yea. They have been keeping an eye out on Bolton and Steelshanks.”

_What!? – Why hadn’t they told him? - is this what Dany and Aeg were keeping from him?... did they not trust Bolton either?... but why keep him in the dark_?

Then it hit him: _of course they didn’t tell me – they would say I’m too emotionally attached_. _Well can’t hurt to do my own investigation_ …

As Jon wondered what his security team might have on Bolton, he realised Grenn was talking to him.

“man?... you ok?”

“Yea… just a lot on my plate.”

“ … you just seemed somewhere far away? Everything ok?”

Jon sighed and not able to help himself asked: “There’s one other favour I need to ask?”

“Sure thing.”

“Could you look into Rickon and Bran? See if they could have any possible Tully relatives still alive – apart from their uncle.”

“Sure… what is this about?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“I just… the other day I could have sworn I saw someone with the same eyes as them.”

“You mean the same eyes as Robb.”

“Y-yea.”

“Damn man… you sure you just haven’t been over working yourself?”

“I’m sure!... I …I even saw Ghost. Ghost was with the mystery man.”

“Ghost! You found Ghost?”

“Yea” Jon said finally letting out a small smile, before grinding his teeth: “Damn security team nearly shot him. Made him run away.”

“But he was with this… this person?” Grenn looked at him confused.

“Yea… they were underneath the Heart Tree, lying there.”

“Gods.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . .

 

On Monday, Bae arrived at work a little tired and hung over, but was glad that he had met up with his old friend, shared his mystery person with someone.

He had been working away all morning when a ruckus brought him out of his work. Looking down from his mezzanine office, on to the floor below he saw a very angry man, trying to be held down by the office security, whilst he was yelling at a bunch of people.

Baelon, suddenly very worried, called Sandor, and both men rushed down to the 44th floor, to see what the commotion was all about.

As he reached the floor he found one of his employees and asked what was going on.

“It’s Bolton’s son sir – he was trying to find his father, but Mr Bolton wasn’t in his office. And then Lyanna wasn’t there either… then all hell broke loose. He started yelling at everyone and then …”

Baelon tried to continue listening but his mind focused on two things: “Where are Bolton and Ms Winters?”

“Bolton is in a meeting sir – he went with Steelshanks for something to do with a shipment from White Harbor.”

“And Ms Winters?”

“I’m… I’m not sure sir. No one has seen her all morning. Best person to ask would be Ros or Mary: they have always seemed close.”

After a quick sigh, Bae quickly thanked him.

 

_Lyanna… where’s Lyanna? … No its Ms Winters: you’re her boss, and she with someone else! … First things first_.

Sighing once more, he proceeded to try and sort out the whole ‘Ramsay fiasco’ with Sandor and office security.

“Ramsay Snow… Bolton… whatever his name is, is not one of my employees! Do not, for any reason let him in the building! Family reunions are to be outside the office. If Mr Bolton has a problem with this, send him to me.”

 

Once back his office, Baelon sunk in his chair, downed a bottle of water, and finally did what he had been wanting to do for the last hour. He pressed his intercom button: “Mrs Teal?”

“Yes sir?”

“Could you ask Ms Ros Redmane and Ms Mary Smith to come to my office please?”

“Of course sir.”

_Ok Bae… have to play this like this is just a concerned boss… nothing more… don’t want them to think you want to get into Lyanna’s pants- Miss Winters’s pants…no! No one’s pants!…. Gods! I’m a fucking teenager again_ …

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Enter.”

Two women came in. One was a voluptuous red-head, not afraid to show off her assets, and the other one was a sweet shy blonde. Bae remembered the red-head had on several occasions had placed herself quite close to him, she decided to speak first, seductively she said: “Mr Ba-aelon Targaryen, you wanted to see me… um I mean us?” she finished with a wicked grin.

_I’d rather be speaking with Lyanna_ …

“Ms Redmane, Ms Smith, please take a seat.”

After both were seated, Bae continued: “I believe you both work on the 44th floor?”

Ros – the red head, again answered: “Yes, sir. It was sooo exhilarating this morning. Mr Ramsay has always beeeennn how can I say… animated in showing his emotions.”

“Yes… well Mr Ramsay hopefully won’t be a problem anymore. Have you both had any news about Mr Bolton or his PA?”

The quiet blonde finally spoke: “Mr Bolton is at east street… he had a meeting with Mr Steelshanks and Mr Helman Tallhart.”

_What about Lyanna_!

Holding his emotions Bae asked quietly: “And Ms Winters?”

Mary blushing said quietly: “…she…she um –“

“-She took a personal day.” Interrupted Ros.

Bae surprised, and a bit more worried asked: “Personal day? I hope everything is ok?”

Both women were silent for a moment, Bae looking at them expectantly, before Mary spoke up: “… it’s just that …well her boyfriend, Mr Payne… well… he..”

_Gods – what has that shit done_?!

“…. He broke up with her, and she took it quite badly… she’s... she just needs a day to herself sir….”

Mary continued to talk, but Bae zoned out _: her boyfriend has broken up with her… her boyfriend is obviously an idiot… but… but that means Lyanna is single! She SINGLE!!... yea but you’re still her boss… well technically Bolton is her boss… yea but you’re her boss’s boss, that’s even worse… for fuck sake get your head out of your ass_!

A loud cough brought him out of his thoughts.

Ros cleared her throat once more: “Sir? … was there anything else you need?”

Baelon quickly looked at them before replying: “No…no that will be all. Thank you both. I… I just wanted to make sure Mr Bolton’s team was still on track.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The rest of Monday had gone by in a blur. Baelon had tried to do some more work, but his mind kept on going back to Lyanna Winters, and trying to figure out a way to ‘help her get over her break up’. He knew that he should probably give her space, and time, especially since Ms Smith had said she had taken the break up pretty badly. However, Baelon was sick of waiting … he had never waited this long for any woman… he had never ‘chased a woman’ before Lyanna Winters.

No, tomorrow he would call Lyanna Winters into his office, and offer some comfort to her. _– yea that’s right, I can play the card of the caring boss_ …. _but do you really think her boss should comfort her about a break up?... well every employee is a key part of the office, you need to make sure everyone is happy… yea I’ll make her happy… I’ll make her forget all about her idiot teacher_ ….

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

However, come Tuesday, when Baelon saw Miss Winters, he, as well as many others, were surprised, even shocked at how tired, and weak she looked. Her usually cheery face, was gaunt, lacked any life. She could be considered a Bolton with her pale face, and the shadow under her eyes.

Bae wanted to punch Podrick Payne for the pain he was causing the beautiful woman. And he wanted to punch himself for thinking that he could finally sleep with her, not caring at all for her feelings.

He was so angry with himself, that he forced himself to ignore her the rest of the week, and try and concentrate on his work instead. – _The girl has been through enough already, don’t think she wants a her lecherous dragon boss hitting on her as well_!

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

It was Friday morning whilst in his office that he got his first non- office related interruption. His personal phone buzzed, not even looking at the name, he answered: “Baelon Targaryen here.”

“ _J, its Grenn. I might have something…. There’s something I think I should show you as soon as possible_.”

Jon sat up curious: “Grenn, is everything all right?”

“ _We should discuss this in person_.”

“You free for lunch? I can be at the Wolf’s Tavern for 12:30?”

“ _Perfect- see you then.”_

The rest of the morning, Bae tried to work, but Jon couldn’t stop thinking about his friend’s call, wondering what his friend wanted to talk to him about.”

 

At noon, not being able to concentrate anymore, Jon left the office and headed for the pub early. The pub, was a bit far from the office, and was secluded: two perfect attributes for their meeting. Jon had barely sat down after ordering a bear, when Green joined him.

His friend sighed: “Hey man, thanks for coming.”

“No problem. What is this about?... is this to do with the mystery person?”

“No… not that research…we haven’t come up with anything there yet. This about the Bolton research you wanted us to do.”

Jon still very much intrigued: “Go on.”

“Its to do with Bolton’s PA… you remember how I said there were a few discrepancies with her?”

Jon started to frown – _what has he found on Lyanna_?: “Yea… well? did they pan out?”

“Not really: all our research has proved is that Lyanna Winters doesn’t exist.”

Jon shocked: “What?!”

“Yea, whoever she is, she is damn good with computers, or whoever she’s working for. Her profile, all her details and papers look professionally made, but whoever she is, she is definitely not Lyanna Winters. Lyanna Winters started existing a little over 4 months ago.”

During the rest of their conversation, Jon thought back to all his meetings/ bump-ins with Lyanna Winters. He realised the only time he had really spoken to her was at the party. The rest of the time was when he was trying to catch more of her. They had never had any kind of real interaction.

He knew nothing about her.

 

After lunch, Grenn had promised to continue looking into who the girl might be, whilst Bae headed back to the office. The rest of the afternoon was a blur, Bae trying to work, but unfortunately, he kept on drifting back to the information, or lack-of, Grenn had found on ‘Lyanna Winters’. Twice he looked out his floor to ceiling glass mezzanine windows that looked towards the Bolton team, and noticed Lyanna working away. She looked a little better than at the beginning of the week, but she still looked a little pale. – He started to think of a plan.

 

At six-thirty, he was finally able to put his plan in motion. Most of the office had left, but Lyanna was still at her desk, starting to pack her stuff. Bae quickly cleared his desk, and went to down the stairs one floor, and walked towards the beautiful woman.

“Ms Winters.”

Lyanna jumped at the calling of her name, before turning to Baelon with a face that seemed between fright, and tiredness. – Like she was a prey and he was a hungry wolf ready to pounce on her.

He stuck his hands in his pockets. With a small smile Bae added: “Evening. I didn’t mean to startle you, I just saw that you were finishing packing, and I was going to join you to the elevators…”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lyanna sighed: “Of course. Please, lead the way.”

As they descended the 44 floors, there was a painful silence. Finally Baelon, unable to keep it in any longer asked: “You joining the others at the bar for office drinks?”

She looked away and sighed. “No,…I’ve had a long day, and I’m tired. I’m going home.”

Her melancholy worried Baelon even more – _who is this woman_? He had the urge to press her against the wall of the elevator and kiss her, make her forget all her worries. Make him forget what he had just learnt about her.

Finally the elevator, jerked and the doors opened.

As they walked out of the lobby, to the car park, he let the urge pass and instead watched as she climbed into her car.

Baelon then hurried to his car. He would follow and find out if she was really headed home. She was a suspect, he repeated to himself. He had to question everything she did.

He’d been following her for a few minutes when she surprised him by continuing down Northern road. She was headed to the Wolfswood Forest.

 

Yes, Lyanna Winters was definitely a suspect.

 


	7. Chapter 6 – Breakdowns, Compromises and Cover-ups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's reaction to the Godwood incident.

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCE

 

For the last eight years, Sansa had been able to keep her two lives separate: Sansa who had survived the Lannisters, the pain of the death of her family, the abuse of Joffrey and then of Petyr… and Mercedene, the professional hitwoman, the one who never had needed a family.

And now – because of _him_ \- they were crashing together.

 

That night.

That stupid, stupid night.

 

She been unable to sleep, so she had gone outside, wandered through town, towards the park. Whilst walking through Godswood Park, the white wolf had come, as if answering the call she had never made out load. They had both continued wandering until she found herself in front of the crypt. Right then Sansa thought back to the last month, to the last year, to the last 12 years. Sansa burst into tears: she needed her family more than anything.

She cried to her parents, to her brother. She had told them about her life now. How Sansa Stark was but a ghost who only existed within her. How the new her: Mercedene had tortured and killed people. How both sides of her were lost and alone.

She needed her family, but they didn’t reply.

After she had let it all out she had just held the wolf, not wanting to let go.

 

But after the long confession, after letting it all out finally, she couldn’t stay there any longer. The sight of their tombs was too much for her. She aimlessly drifted out of the crypt, the cold winter air welcoming her as she came to the outside. The wolf silently followed her.

As they walked she noticed it had started to snow. The snow fell on her face, she welcomed it. – _Something to cover the horrors of the past_.

They slowly had walked to the heart tree- where she had last seen her family.

She sat underneath it. She felt the snow continue to fall on her, covering her with a protective blanket. The wolf also covered her, keeping her warm.

 

Suddenly the wolf had left her lap.

As she had looked out to see where the wolf had gone, she noticed someone approach.

Tall, dark … a northern scowl - _… dad…_?

 

Trying to get a better look at the intruder, her eyes met dark grey ones, but they weren’t that of her father’s – no it was Baelon Targaryen staring back at her.

She ran.

She ran as fast as she could before he could catch up with her, before he recognised her.

 

After Sansa got home in a panic, she quickly checked if anyone had followed her.

No, thankfully the snow had now turned into a small blizzard, and all traces of her night escape had faded away.

She then checked if there were any messages from the team. – _None, good_.

 

As relief settles in, Sansa remembered, or more like, realised something.

_Robb_.

He had called her Robb: that’s why she had run.

Hearing the name, she had first thought he had realised who she was, but then no, he would have said ‘Sansa’, not ‘Robb’.

\- _But why call me Robb? … does he even know Robb_?

Out of all the things that confused and worried her about the night the one thing she kept on going over was the fact that he had said ‘Robb’, he had called her ‘Robb’. She was sure of it. – _but why?, how? How did he even know Robb_?

 

The questions started accumulating in her mind.

Unable to answer, and getting more and more confused, Sansa left her house once more and went to the warehouse.

Thankfully it was empty at this hour.

The rest of the night, Sansa looked over the Red 3 file, as well as all her other files for clues.

 

She re-read what she already knew: Jon Snow stay at Winterfell Academy overlapped that of Robb Stark’s. But apart from that there was no indication that the two knew each other.

Jon Snow had been at the academy from ages 9 to 16, he had even graduated a year before Robb.

Sansa remembered Robb had started going for upper school: at age 13. She remembered how he came home every weekend going on about how great it was, how he would sometimes see dad. But he had never mentioned a dark haired friend named Jon- _had he_?

 

Unable to find more answers in the files, she started searching through the different databases.

Nothing new came up when she looked for stuff about ‘Jon Snow’ or ‘Baelon Targaryen’.

 

After a few moments, she realised she had to do the thing she had been putting off.- The thing she had been putting off for 8 years to be honest.

For the last 8 years, Sansa for her own sanity had stopped herself (and Jaquen had encouraged it) from looking at any pictures/ news/information about her family from her abduction onwards.

Of course there were a few things she hadn’t been able to block:

The Red Wedding Massacre for one. She had poured over all the files, the news, the suspects… for weeks until Jaquen had forced her away.

She also had the occasional news about her two younger brothers.

But for the most part Sansa had no idea what her family had been up to from the day Joffrey decided for her to become his next play thing.

 

Looking at the screen in front of her, her fingers hovering over the keyboard she let out a huge sigh before typing: ‘Robb Rickard Stark’ into the search database.

 

The first things that popped up were about the Red Wedding. After a few more clicks, she passed a couple of the information pertaining to her family, where they had lived,…

Then finally she found a few class pictures of Winterfell Academy.

In the first one Robb looked young. He was smiling, with Theon grinning next to him. General Eddard Stark was also in the photo. But no sign of Jon Snow.

The next one, Robb looked a little older, he was still grinning, and there was still Theon next to him. She recognised a boy at the far end of the picture- _Baelon Targaryen_. He wasn’t smiling, he seemed to have intentionally put himself to the side, with only a quite large boy next to him – one that Sansa recognised from his RED 3 file – a young Samwell Tarly. There was no mention of either ‘Jon Snow’ or ‘Baelon Targaryen’ in the caption of the photo.

The next one, Robb was again there, as well as Theon, Baelon and his chubby friend. Baelon was still not smiling, but this time he was surrounded by quite a few other boys, and he was much closer in the stands to Robb. However there still was no indication that the two actually knew each other. Here again neither the name ‘Jon Snow’ or ‘Baelon Targaryen’ were mentioned.

– _The Targaryen’s must have paid a lot of money to hide as much about Jon Snow as possible. But why? Everyone in Westeros now knows about the ‘Griff Connington’ and ‘Cat Connington’… why hide Jon Snow_?

With the new questions accumulating with the old ones, Sansa looked at the fourth picture.

Her heart jumped: Baelon – or at the time Jon Snow- was now standing right next to Robb, they were both grinning at the camera, with the rest of their friends. Baelon’s smile seemed so care free, she had never seen him smile like that at the office. Even the pictures in his RED 3 file didn’t have any proof that he could look this happy.

After looking at the picture a long time, she looked at the next one. Baelon wasn’t in this one. Neither was Theon. They must have graduated the previous year. Robb is still there, smiling next to Grenn Aurochs.

The next picture was Robb graduation from Winterfell Academy. – It had been taken four months after her kidnapping. He looks sombre, the whole family looks sombre. Even though this should be one of Robb’s proudest moments, there is no joy in his eyes.

A tear runs down Sansa’s cheek.

She continues to look through the pictures/ information. Most are about his time in the army, several articles/ data mentions her abduction and/or her father’s death.

There are a few pictures at her dad’s funeral. Her whole family is there. Jon Snow is there, next to Robb, holding Rickon’s hand.

Tears continue to fall silently as Sansa continues through the torture. She continues to select one oo two datas and a few pictures where she finds Jon Snow/ Baelon Targaryen in the picture, taking notes the whole time.

She continues because she knows once she stops the work, she will crumble.

Finally after quite a while she arrives at a video.

After clicking ‘play’ she realises what it is: Robb’s engagement party.

He is sitting in the middle of a large room, a beautiful dark-haired woman next to him. Next to them at the table are the rest of the Stark family, as well as a few friends, including Jon Snow.

Upon hearing her brother and then her mother’s voice after so many years, Sansa can’t take it anymore and falls to the floor in a foetal position, crying loudly into the empty room.

Much later, she falls asleep, exhausted, tears still falling down her face.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Sansa wakes up to the sound of her phone beeping.

 

She tries slowly to wake up, feeling as if she was on her worst ever hang over. – She wishes it was only a hangover.

Slowly Sansa lifts herself to a seating position. Her head hurts, her face is still swollen.

Finally she reaches for her phone. Its past 1400 hour – three new texts.

One first on is from Podrick, asking her if she wants to see a film.

The second is from Harry, wondering how she is, and if she’s going to the warehouse at all today.

The last one, the most recent one is from Jaquen, wondering where she is.

 

She clicks reply: ‘ ** _In the warehouse, looking over some stuff to do with Bolton’_**

She then replies to Harry: ‘ ** _Yea in the warehouse all day. Come on over if you want to do some workout._** ’ – yea after last night she needed to kick the living shit out of something. _Hopefully Harry won’t mind being my punching bag_.

Looking back at the first text, she quickly replies to Podrick : ‘ ** _Sorry, raincheck?_** ’ - She couldn’t deal with him right now. Podrick was too sweet, too kind to be dragged into the mess that was her life.

 

After putting her phone back down, she stands up and goes to the shower room.

Whilst washing herself she thought back to the previous evening. She realised how foolish she had been. – What would happen if Baelon had recognised her? Not only Lyanna Winters, but as Sansa Stark?

She hadn’t been wearing her green eye contacts last night. Her eyes. He had probably recognised Robb’s eyes in hers.

And then there was Jaquen. He was probably following Baelon into the park. Gods! He would find out where she’d been, he would realise that Sansa Stark is very much still alive. – Cause that was the truth: Mercedene was just her cover. Only Sansa Stark would be foolish enough to wander to her parents grave at 1 in the morning.

No last night, more than ever, Sansa realised that all this time she had only ever been Sansa.

It was Sansa who had been the stupid little girl, and had believed the lovely fairy tales. It was Sansa who ran off that afternoon, to meet up with ‘beautiful Joffrey’, without telling her parents. It was Sansa who let Petyr take her away from Joffrey. It was Sansa who became a liar and manipulator, whilst detecting the lies of others. It was Sansa who, barely fifteen killed her ‘father’. It was Sansa who willingly left Westeros and followed Jaquen. It was Sansa who learnt how to kill a man with just a spoon. It was Sansa who hid in the shadows because she wasn’t ready to face all the things she had done. It was Sansa who had run away from the family she still had because she was too afraid.

She then thought about of the different people she had killed.

Petyr had been her first.

She wished it had been Joffrey – his mother thought it was her, but old Olenna Tyrell had beaten her to it. The others were a blur of contracts from the House of Black and White. The only ones she had felt something for was when she had killed those eleven Freys as they had come out of the Red Keep: Stevron Frey, Emmon Frey, Aenys Frey, Jared Frey, Luceon Frey, Hosteen Frey, Symond Frey, Walder Frey, Ryger Frey, Lothar Frey, Olyvar Frey. That day, Sansa had made sure Walder Frey lost all his sons – all but one: Waldron Frey. He would die a slow death next to his father.

Killing is not so easy as the innocent believe – but she wasn’t innocent any longer, no Joffrey made sure of that, … they all had made sure of that. _What would Joffrey think of me now?... Who would have thought young sweet innocent Sansa Stark would one day become_ …

She let her thoughts be washed away by the drowning of the water.

 

When she finally got out of the shower and dressed she saw Harry had arrived. Walking into the main room, he turned to her before doing a double take: “Gods Merce! Are you ok?” as he practically ran and took her in his arms.

“What happened?”

“Nothing- just had a rough time sleeping last night, and had a rough morning.”

Looking at her in the eyes, Harry replied: “Merce… you look like shit… it looks more than just a lack of sleep. – You sure you’re ok? It looks like you’ve been crying?”

Looking away, Sansa sighed: “I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Just a bit emotional… girl stuff.”

“This has nothing to do with that shit-head right?”

Sansa looked back at him surprised: “Podrick’s not a shit-head!”

“No-not him…” Harry sighed.

Sansa’s heart pounded faster _\- how did he know about Baelon and Robb?... no, that can’t be it_ …

After taking a sip of his coffee, Harry continued: “… Bolton… him and his shit-rapist son. They …they didn’t do anything to you right?”

Sansa internally sighed in relief: “ No…no… don’t worry. I always make sure I not left alone with Ramsay Snow in a room.”

Wanting to change to subject, she put on a smile, and said: “Come on, I need to kick the living shit our of something and since Ramsay isn’t available, well, you’ll do.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

After a long session of quick boxing, Harry and Merce spent the rest of the day looking over information about Bolton and his known associates. Every now and then Harry would probe her to tell him why she looked so down. Finally, after quite a while, he gave up and left for the evening.

The rest of the night, till early Sunday morning, Sansa stayed in the warehouse, continuing to look at information about Robb and his relationship with Jon Snow.

The two weren’t only friends but they were best friends when Robb had been killed. Jon and Robb had shared an apartment when they had both been a Castle Black. Jon Snow was supposed to be Robb’s best man at his wedding.

From the information she found on her family, Jon seemed to have been not only close to her older brother but to the whole family. She was very surprised to even find pictures of the white wolf. Several pictures showed Robb, Rickon and Bran with Jon and there were two wolves playing with them. A big grey one, and her white friend. – _Robb even knew the white wolf._

 

Finally not being able to take anymore, Sansa drove back to Lyanna Winter’s apartment.

 

When she arrived there Podrick was waiting outside her front door, looking worried. As she came out of her car, he quickly walked towards her.

“Lyanna – Gods! I was so worried. I’ve been calling your cell, but it’s been going straight to voice mail.”

As he reached her, he brought her into his arms, embracing her. He looked down at her, even more concerned after seeing the state his girlfriend was in: “Where have you been?... Gods look at you, are you ok? You look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

Sansa looked away, trying to hold back the tears and the memories of all the things she had read and seen for the last two days. “I’m fine. I had a rough day yesterday, so I went for a walk in the forest this morning, lost track of time.”

Breaking from the embrace, she looked into her purse for her phone. – It was dead.

“Sorry, didn’t realise my phone had died. Have you been waiting long?” She asked, as she moved them inside her house.

“Not too long, just got worried after the unanswered texts and calls.”

They went to the kitchen, where Sansa put the kettle on.

After a pause, Podrick a little exasperated asked: “aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Sansa still looking away, eyes towards the boiling water, sighed: “Nothing’s wrong ,just had a long weekend…”

Podrick cried out: “GODS LYANNA, stop lying to me!”

Sansa jumped back and looked at him: Podrick had never raised his voice at her, at anyone.

“Lyanna, you look while you went through all of the seven hells: you are not _fine_. I’ve seen dead bodies that looked less pale than you! Tell me: what is wrong?”

Sansa just kept quiet looking down at her feet. Podrick, trying to get her to open up, moved to her, and took her chin, raising it so their eyes met: “Lya… please… talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”

A tear slowly fell down her lovely face.

Sansa quickly moved away from him, and whipped the tear away from him.

“Lyannnaaa! We’ve been going out for over three months, but you’re still keeping me at a distance! Why don’t you share yourself with me?” He pleaded.

Still looking away, she whispered: “I told you I have trouble with a physical relationship.”

“This has nothing with sex, Lya and you know it!- you are always shutting me out, never confining with me with your problems- you barely talk about work, as for your family and your life at White Harbour, you never mention them… I know more about your colleagues personal lives than I do about yours…”

“I…I’m not use to opening up to people Pod… I…”

“I know Lya… but we’ve been going out for several months now: you need to let me in, at least a little bit! This is not a relationship! I can see when you are hurt, or when you are frustrated but … you just shut me down, push me away…”

Sansa stood there silent, unable to confirm that all he said was true.

After a long pause, Podrick sighed, exasperated: “I can’t do this anymore… Tyrion wouldn’t let me help him and now you are doing the same thing – well enough!... I’m sorry I just can’t put up with it any longer – If you’re not going to behave like this is a relationship, than neither can I… either you open up, talk to me, or we’re over.” And he started walking towards the entrance lobby.

But Sansa was only half listening.

_Tyrion!?... Tyrion Lannister? – nooo they can’t … it can’t be.. they can’t- can’t be back_ …

 

Panicked, Sansa turned to him: “What do you mean ‘Tyrion wouldn’t let me help him’?

He turned back to her in disbelief: “Gods Lya here you go again – avoiding the subject. I just told you I done with us, and you fixate on someone I haven’t talked to in over ten years...”

She sighed in return: “I’m sorry Pod, I really am so sorry… this is just too complicated… maybe you’re right… maybe we should take a break…see other people…”

After another pause, Podrick asked: “…Is there someone else?... To be honest that would relieve me a bit- you need someone to look after you Lya… and since you’re not letting me do it… I hope someone else is.”

“No… there’s no one else Pod” _– not in that way anyway. There is someone but her name is Sansa Stark … and she’s all kinds of fucked up_.

 

After Podrick, Sansa went back to the kitchen feeling even more like shit.

After a moment of drinking her tea, she quickly went to her home computer and checked what Podrick had said. After a moment she sunk in her chair and sighed in relief.

_Cersei Lannister: still in jail_

_Jaime Lannister: travelling through Esssos – currently in Myr_

_Tyrion Lannister: History Professor at the Citadel_

_Joffrey… still dead_

_Tywin… still dead_

As for the rest: still running around Westeros doing menial things.

 

No, she shouldn’t worry – Tyrion had never been like the rest of his family. Cersei and him had never gotten along. He had even tried to protect Sansa from Joffrey once or twice. He had also been blamed for Joffrey’s death (more directly than her- Cersei was the only one to blame a dead girl).

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

On Monday she couldn’t take it anymore.

Using her breakup as an excuse, she called the office, to take a personal day. She really did look like shit, it’s not like she didn’t need the personal day.

 

After hanging up from her chat with Mary, she called Jaquen, and asked him to meet her at the warehouse.

He was already there when she arrived.

 

When she saw him, her anger flared: “When -the fuck- were you going to tell me?!”

He looked at her quizzically, and surprised by her complexion. “What are you talking about?... What happened to you?”

Sansa ignoring his questions, went on: “ROBB STARK! When were you going to tell me about Jon Snow and Robb Stark?!”

Jaquen looked at her even more shocked, out of all the things he was expecting her to reply, this was obviously not one of them. He frowned, “Who told you? … Gods, I bet its Sandor… I told him not to tell you about the investigation…”

Sansa looked at him sceptically: “Told me what?... what investigation?”

Jaq looked at her even more confused: “The one Baelon’s has been doing… all weekend long. He even asked one of his friends to look into it … about Robb Starks family…when they met last night…wait…if that’s not it… than…what are you talking about?”

Sansa did a double take. – _He did recognise her blues eyes_ …

And then she seethed: “And why did that have to be hidden from me?... No- no, actually better question: When the fuck were you going to tell me that Jon Snow knew Robb Stark... No- not knew… a lot more than knew…they were practically brothers! HE was going to be best man at ROBB STARK’s fucking wedding!”

“How did you find that out?”

“That is not the answer I am looking for Jaq… when were you going to tell me?”

Jaquen looked away: “Why did you need to know… Robb Stark is not our mission.”

“Yea but Baelon Targaryen is… Jon Snow is!”

Jaquen looked back at her in warning: “Yes Baelon Targaryen is our main mission… but Mer-ce-dene Black’s main concern is Roose Bolton. I believe that anything to do between Robb Stark and Roose Bolton ended nine years ago.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Sansa went through the rest of the week detached from reality, detached from everything going on around her. She was still in angry at Jaquen, and she knew she had been foolish to confront him. But f _uck_! she wanted answers. – _How much were they still keeping from her_?

She did her work mindlessly. People talked to her, inquired about her, both Ros and Mary were really worried about her. But she would only barely acknowledge them. The past and the present had been slammed together, and she was losing it.

On Friday, she continued to work mindlessly, waiting for the week to be over. She declined her friends offer to come for work drinks, continuing her work. She had fallen behind on the Bolton investigation, so she used this time with everyone leaving to do some.

She quickly went into Roose Bolton’s office and taking two files she had noticed earlier that were questionable. As she was sliding them in her bag, a voice behind her made her jump.

“Ms Winters.”

She turned panicked, fearing she had been caught.

_Him_. She had avoided _him_ all week. She couldn’t be in the same room as him, without thinking of her brother… of her family… of her past… of her pain…

And now he was there standing in front of her: Baelon Targaryen. All of this was his fucking fault. It he had been here, her life wouldn’t be falling apart.

“Evening. I didn’t mean to startle you, I just saw that you were finishing packing, and I was going to join you to the elevators…”

Sansa quickly tried to think of an excuse, but came up with none. Finally, she sighed: “Of course. Please, lead the way.”

After the elevator ride, trying to ignore him, Sansa quickly climbed into her car, without looking behind. – She needed to go to the warehouse, she needed to shoot something…

After a few minutes, she realised someone was following her. – _What the fuck?_!

Baelon Targaryen was following her. His stalking skills were good, leaving space between their cars… not always sharing the same lane, but Sansa was sure of it: the man was following her.

She called Jaquen: “Where the fuck is Sandor and why the fuck isn’t he with Red 3?”

With a sigh, he replied: “ _There has been a fight at the office bar… Ramsay Bolton and a few of his guys jumped a few of the employees, and at least two person have been stabbed…. Sandor and I are taking care of the situation, but we’ve been told not to inform Red 3 just yet…. Do you have eyes on him_?”

“Yes.”

“ _Good, keep an eye out. Maybe lead him as far away from the office as possible… we still haven’t found Ramsay…”_

“Will do.”

“ _More more thing M – Red 3 knows that Lyanna Winters doesn’t exist. His friend informed him today… We’ve found out that he’s had a few of his old friends do a lot more than just look up information about Robb Stark’s family. Red 3 has been doing his own Bolton investigation_.”

“Great. Who does he think I am then?”

“ _We don’t know… We don’t think he knows about your other identities though_. “

_\- he doesn’t know about Mercedene Black, the assassin, and Sansa Stark, his best friend’s dead sister, you mean_.

 

Sansa hung up, and continued pass the warehouse, to the forest.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

After she parked, and walked through the forest for a while, she laid down in a clearing, looking up at the sky.

A few minutes before she had parked, Baelon’s car had disappeared, but she knew he was still following her.

After a long pause, she sensed someone was watching her.

She sighed: “I know you’re there, you can come out.”

No answer.

She sat up, looked towards where she knew he was hiding.

“Mr Targaryen, please come out of the trees, I don’t like being spied on.”

After another pause, Baelon finally slowly came out.

She looked up at him. - This man knew more about her family – what her own family had been through for the last twelve years than she did.

Baelon looking a little sheepish, started walking towards her: “I’m sorry I followed you. I was worried… I heard about your… your break up, and like many others, I couldn’t help but notice you look … well.. like hell.”

She raised an eyebrow: “So you decided to follow me?”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything stupid.”

Sansa scoffed: “Thank you for the level in confidence.”

He sat down next to her and sighed: “That’s not what I meant… sometimes everyone needs to be looked over.”

“And why would this be your job?”, she said with a frown.

Baelon sighed, before looking at her: “your one of my employees…”

“Yes, at the office. My personal life is none of your concern.”

 

Suddenly Sansa realised something – _Baelon said everyone needs looking after… Podrick had said the same thing_ …

Her mind started to race looking at the past four months.

 

Gods she had been so foolish all along:

_Sandor is a trained body guard_

_Jaquen has been in several under cover mission, but in recent years, has been doing more and more bodyguard jobs/ more security detail teams_

_Harry has done his share of covert operations… and this is what his fourth… fifth time surveying someone_ …

_But me … contract killer, cleaner, assassin, hitman… no matter which name you use, my job has always been one thing and one thing only: killing of people_.

\- Since she was fifteen she had been trained to do just that: be one of the best assassins in the world.

So that begged the question: _Why send an assassin to look after someone_?

 

Baelon’s low voice, husky voice brought her back to the present: “Miss Winters… are you ok?”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON/ BAELON

 

_Gods - she is beautiful_.

Even from the trees, when she had been lying down in the grass, she had looked spectacular. He had wanted to just lie down next to her, and hold her.

But now, up close, with the frown on her face, her eyes still full of sadness and confusion. He wanted to do more than hold her. He wanted to make all her troubles disappear, her wanted to help her forget her past: just be her and him.

Baelon looked into her green eyes, waiting for a response.

 

With a small smile Lyanna replied: “Have you ever played chess Mr Targaryen?”

Baelon looked at her quizzically, confused by reply, and the drastic change in subject. “Of Course.”

“How would you describe it?”

“Most people would say it’s a game of strategy.”

“Yes, and what is the aim of the game?”

“To protect the king.”

Lyanna smiled at him once more, a wicked grin, as if she was remembering an inside joke:

“Yes, most people would agree with you. But whilst you might be right in defending your pieces, your king, the true purpose of the game is not that.

No chess is not a defensive game Mr Targaryen, it is the ultimate offensive game. Chess is all about getting the other king into check. You see, you can remove as many pawns that are in your way as you want, but ultimately your goal is the king.

It's about the killing of a king. I would say that chess has more to do with the art of murder than it does with the art of strategy or war.”

 

Baelon’s Adam’s apple slowly bobbed up and back down, his eyes not leaving hers. _Gods - who is this woman?_

 


	8. Side Note: A Time Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey – in the process of writing the next Chapter, but in the meantime did a first time line of what the story has already talked about. Hopefully it will give some clarity into both Sansa’s and Jon’s past.

 

Sansa 3 – Jon arrives at WA – Jon 9

 

Sansa 6 – Jon meets Robb - Jon 12

 

Sansa 10/ 11- Jon graduates from WA – Jon 16

Sansa 11 – Jon starts at Castle Black - Jon 17

 

Sansa 12- Sansa’s abduction - Jon 17/18

Sansa 12- Robb joins Jon at Castle Black hoping that it would help them find Sansa – Jon 18

 

Sansa 14- General Stark is killed - Jon 20

Sansa 14- Robb gets Greywind, Jon gets Ghost – Jon 20

 

Sansa 15- Sansa is taken away by Petyr Baelish, and becomes Alayne Stone - Jon 21

 

Sansa 16 – Sansa kills Petyr, and is then found by Jaquen (who had been contracted to kill Petyr) – Jon 22

Sansa 16 – Investigation into Petyr’s murder, the police find proof that the Lannisters were involved in numerous illegal activity, including the abduction of Sansa Stark, and the killing of General Stark - Jon 22

Sansa 16 - Lannister house raided, Cersei is arrested – Jon 22

Sansa 16 – Red Wedding Massacre (most believed as retaliation from the Lannisters) – Jon 22

Sansa 16 - Joffrey is killed during the Lannister trial – Jon 22

Sansa 16- Sansa starts her ‘apprenticeship’ at the House of Black and White and becomes Mercedene – Jon 22

 

Sansa 17 – Tywin Lannister dies from mysterious circumstances - Jon 23

 

Sansa 18 – Ygritte dies in Jon’s arms- Jon 24

Sansa 18 – Jon, in mourning, stops doing under-cover/ special ops - Jon 24

Sansa 18 – Jon Snow becomes Baelon Targaryen - Jon 24

Sansa 18 – Baelon Targaryen moves to Kings Landings with the rest of his family - Jon 24

 

Sansa 20 – Sansa kills 11 Freys – Jon 26

 

Sansa 24 - **now** – Jon 30

 


	9. Chapter 7 - Assignments and Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna/ Sansa finds a new solution to keep the advances of BAelon at bay.

 

SANSA / MERCEDENE / LYANNA

 

_You will need to get close to Roose Bolton… you will become his personal assistant…. your mission is to learn everything on Mr. Pink…. Mercedene Black’s main concern is Roose Bolton_ …

 

She had thought it had been a test, to see if she would react to being placed so close to her mother’s, her brother’s killer … but no it had merely been the first step. - Meeting the target.

During the last months Izembaro and Jaquen had encouraged her to do more and more research on Roose Bolton, on his son, on their associates. She had done stake outs, stayed late in the office with Roose Bolton, learnt his whole schedule, and it was only now that it dawned on her _why?_ \- Getting to know the target.

Jaquen had always said her mission was Roose Bolton, ‘ _Black 1 doesn’t trust him’_ but it was more than that. With their mission to look after Baelon Targaryen, Jaquen had created another mission as well, one just for her.

She had just been too foolishly to properly listen to him.

Mercedene’s research showed that Roose was planning something big to do with the company. Slowly but surely something was going to happen. Roose was secretly planning his next moves, moving his pawns.

But he didn’t know who he was playing against. Baelon Targaryen may be the ‘king’ he wanted to take down, but the king is just another pretty pawn. The ones who were truly playing against him was the House of Black and White, more specifically against her.

 

She looked up at the ‘king’ of this game… he was looking at her expectantly.

_Am I ok?_ _Now more than ever I’m better than ok_.

She smiled back at him: “Have you ever played chess Mr Targaryen?”

Baelon confused replied: “Of Course.”

“How would you describe it?”

“Most people would say it’s a game of strategy.”

“Yes, and what is the aim of the game?”

“To protect the king.”

 

Sansa couldn’t help but widen her smile. - _Yes, Jaquen, Sandor and Harry were all here to protect their ‘king’_.

 

“Yes, most people would agree with you. But whilst you might be right in defending your pieces, your king, the true purpose of the game is not that.

No chess is not a defensive game Mr Targaryen, it is the ultimate offensive game. Chess is all about getting the other king into check. You see, you can remove as many pawns that are in your way as you want, but ultimately your goal is the king.

It's about the killing of a king. I would say that chess has more to do with the art of murder than it does with the art of strategy or war.”

Yes the others were here to protect, but Sansa finally understood her mission, and it was not to protect but to kill.

Roose Bolton.

Sansa smiled: the North remembers.

 

After a long silence with Sansa in her thoughts, she noticed that Baelon was looking at her looked at warily.

Sensing his eyes on her, she quickly looked down, in a shy smile, Sansa broke the stillness: “I’m sorry, a lot has happened lately … I just... I … to answer your previous question Mr Targaryen, yes I am fine, just a little tired. I’m glad it’s Friday.”

Baelon shaking out of his trance sighed in agreement: “Yes it has been a long week for me too.”

Part of her wanted to leave. This proximity could only lead to more danger for her. However, she knew that she couldn’t disobey Jaquen. He needed her, so she would have to suck it up.

Looking back up, she asked: “Are you liking the North?”

“It’s nice. I had missed the snow. We rarely get it in Kings Landing, I couldn’t help but feel like a little boy again when I saw it snow this week.” He answered with a sad smile, picking up a few flakes, and threading them through his fingers.

\- Yes, that had been the first thing she had missed as well in Kings Landing all those years ago.

Playing the ignorant, she asked: “You have been North before?”

“Yes, I Studied at WA when I was younger.”

Surprised by his honesty, Sansa couldn’t help but push on: “Really, so far north? I would have thought that you would have stayed with your uncle in Sunspear?”

Baelon blushed, as he tried to recuperate from the information he had just told her: “huhh, yea…I did… I mean I was … I did a one year exchange at the Winterfell Academy.”

 

_Well… it seems I’m not the only one who lies… Although I obviously do it much better_ …

“And you liked your time there?”

This time he didn’t hesitate with his answer, and seemed to give only honesty: “It was the best time of my life.”

Now it was Sansa’s turned to smile sadly: “I’m sorry to say but that seems quite sad… do you not like the south? … I would think that most southerners found the North too barbaric, and cold for their taste…. I have only heard praises about the Stormlands.”

_At least that’s what Cersei, and Joffrey kept on repeating to me_.

“The true south is Dorne. I love it there but I have never felt at home there. As for the Stormlands… Well… sorry to disappoint but for me Kings Landing is nothing more than a nest full of snakes… everyone there is all fake smiles, everything is about who you are, who you know, and what you know…”

_I couldn’t agree more_ …

“Well maybe it’s for the best that I’ve never been then… but I’m can help but point out that your family is south: your brother and aunt are in Kings Landing, and your sister is with her husband in the Reach… don’t you miss them? Wouldn’t you be where they are?”

Baelon sighed: “Yes they are, and I do miss them, but I hardly knew of their existence for the first 24 years of my life… before the Targeryens came out of hiding, I didn’t even know I had a brother or a sister- I thought they were dead. That they had died with my father’s wife. The only one of the family I really knew was Obe-”

He suddenly looked at her, surprised by his own words: “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t be telling all of this… it’s something that we try to avoid talking about.”

Sansa blushed in return: “I’m sorry I pried.”

After a pause she couldn’t hell herself but ask him about what she truly wanted to know: “Did you make friends while you were at Winterfell Academy?”

The change in his eyes was subtle but Sansa noticed it. She mainly noticed it because she had those same eyes more often than not: they had sadness to them, eyes that were remembering a past life. In a hollow voice, Baelon replied: “Yes… yes, I did.”

He then shook his head, and cleared his throat: “huh, yea… I have actually caught up with some of them recently. They all seem to be steeling down, starting families.”

Sansa wondered if he was talking about Samwell Tarly, or his other friends from Castle Black. “Do they live in Winter Town?”

“No, unfortunately not. My closest friend is actually studying at the Citadel. And the others they work up north.”

“Near the Wall?” Sansa asked, wondering if he would tell her that his friends worked for the Night’s Watch.

“Yea, something like that.”

 

Felling that he wouldn’t give her more information about either Robb, or his other friends from the WA, Sansa changed the subject and asked him how he liked Winter Town. Their conversation continued, as they talked about basic things.

It was only when they heard her phone ring that Sansa realised how close they were sitting to one another. Their shoulders were touching, whilst Sansa was barely leaning against the man’s solid frame- their bodies unconsciously keeping them warm, by bringing them closer.

Seeing the caller, she sat up and moved away from him.

 

“Sorry”, she apologised, turning away from him.

 

“Lyanna speaking”

Jaquen’s rough voice replied: _“You still with him?”_

“Yes.”

_“Things are sorting themselves out here, Dog will soon try and join Red 3.”_

“Did you find Mr Brown?”

_“Yea but he was able to ‘prove’ that he wasn’t part of the fight, he didn’t punch or stab anyone, trying to make people believe that he was actually trying to stop it.”_

“Mr Brown trying to stop a fight – that’ll be the day.”

_“Yea.”_

“What do you want me to do?”

_“Stay with him until Dog gets there.”_

“Sure thing.”

_“Oh, and did he ask you about who you are?”_

Sansa sighed: “Not yet.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

As much as it had been nice to talk to Baelon Targaryen, Sansa quickly realised that the afternoon of them talking and sharing stuff had been a huge mistake. From the following week, it was harder for Lyanna to hide from him: to ignore when she sensed him watching her, to not talk to him when he sought her out in the break room, or after a meeting.

The exchanges never lasted more than a few minutes, but each time she felt like she was being scrutinised and seduced at the same time. – It was one thing that Lyanna’s attraction for her boss only grew, as she grew to know the man more, but Sansa knew that Baelon was trying to figure out who she really was. For that she had to be even more careful of being left alone with him, and what she said to him.

Sansa finally cracked three weeks after the fateful afternoon.

It was one of the worse occasions: Baelon requested a number of files from Roose Bolton’s branch. Mr Bolton said he would be unable to bring them to Mr Targaryen before the end of the day. Using that as an excuse, Baelon told him to send Lyanna to Winterfell Manor when they were done.

The situation couldn’t be any worse:

Lyanna couldn’t possibly go to his house without being worried that he would be able to seduce her.

The close proximity of the two in his house was too dangerous a situation for Mercedene, worrying that he would possibly get more information about her.

And Sansa… Sansa’s problem wasn’t really with Baelon Targaryen. Now more than ever her problem was with the ghosts of her past. She hadn’t been to Winterfell Manor she had left for Kings Landing when she was twelve years old. She knew that if she stepped through the threshold of the Manor all her reactions from that dreaded weekend would only be worse.

 

They stayed in his office past seven, working through the files. Once the files were done, Roose Bolton glanced at her:

“Ms Winters, please bring these files to Mr Targaryen as requested.”

She sighed: “Of course sir.” Taking the papers from him.

As she was ordering them, she sensed his eyes still on her. Quietly she turned around questioningly: “Was there anything else sir?”

Mr Bolton surveyed her a moment longer before replying: “No Ms Winters. I will see you tomorrow. Have a nice evening.”

Although his words were nothing but polite, Sansa couldn’t help but feel a chill down her spine – feeling that Mr Bolton meant something completely different to his words.

 

Once he was gone, Sansa sighed and brought her plan to motion. She pressed the ‘3’ on her phone and the ‘call button’.

 

_“Hey- H here.”_

“I need you”

She heard a chair scrape wooden floor through the phone, and someone standing up, before a cocky voice answered: _“It’s about bloody well time… I’ve what waited six-seven years to hear you say those words?”_

“Harry- be serious… that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

_“Shame…you know we could be great together. – Anyways, what can I do you for?”_

“Can you deliver a few files for me?

_“Sure thing. Is this secret inconspicuous file exchange, or just me being your personal delivery man?”_

“The second one.”

_“Okay the. What and where?”_

“TC Files, Bolton branch, to deliver to Winterfell Manor.”

Sansa heard the surprise and confusion in Harry’s voice when he replied: _“O-okay, but why me? what’s so bad that I have to do it? Surely ‘Lyanna Winters’ can deliver a few little files to the ‘pretty’ dragon prince.”_

“Harry, please, just do it.”

_“Fine… but you’ll have to make it up to me.”_

Sighing, she agreed: “Fine.”

_“You could sound more frilled, I’m the one doing you a massive favour, I’m your knight in shining armour, remember that my princess.”_

 

. . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The next day confirmed Sansa’s suspicions that she needed to act on her ‘Baelon Targaryen’ problem. During the morning, he had requested that she come to his office.

Once she had entered and taken a seat, and they had done a bit of idle chitchat, Baelon asked her why she had been unable to deliver the files herself. He was obviously annoyed about the situation, and did little to hide his frustration. Although her response wasn’t one he could question she could sense that he would now only try harder to be alone with her.

Even worse is when she went to leave, he walked her to the door, and his hand had reached from behind her as they had both reached for the handle, their hands grazed. At the jolt of the touch, Sansa became aware of his warm breath against her back. In that moment she wanted to forget all reason and just lean her back against his hard chest.

She sensed that even though they weren’t touching his right arm was still hovering near her, as if he was ready to sweep her in his arms at any moment. Sansa wasn’t even sure if she would stop him.

His husky voice broke her trance, as he was obviously feeling the same thing as her: he softly whispered her name like a lover would: “Lyanna.”

– It was the first time he had called her by her first name. For a second she wished he had said her real name.

Suddenly realising her foolish thoughts, she tried to compose herself.

“Mr Targaryen” She whispers, before walking out of the room as fast as possible.

 

Once back in her seat, she sighed and started on her new plan in ‘avoiding Baelon Targaryen’.

After a few moments she sent Jaquen a message: ‘ ** _Meet me in the warehouse after work’_**.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

When she arrives at the warehouse later Jaquen is already there. As she settles across from him, he asks: “What is this about?”

Sansa looking at her boss warily replies: “Before I get to the point I would ask that Harry not know about this… or Sandor” she adds with a sigh.

Raising his eyebrows in curiosity, Jaquen only agrees: “Fine.”

After a pause, pacing around the room, she finally looks back at him: “Lyanna needs someone… she can’t be single any longer.”

This time it’s Jaquen’s turn to be silent, studying his protégé. He looks at her curiously, before finally answering: “O-okay…and I assume that you have someone in mind?”

“Harry – or in the office it would be Henry.”

Jaquen doesn’t answer, so Sansa continues. “As long as Lyanna is single, it gives Red 3 more chances to uncover more about her, and try and discover her other identities.

Plus, now that I’m single the other women see me as a threat. Some have noticed that Red 3 has taken an interest in me. I’m pretty sure Mr Pink has noticed this as well, and might try and use it to his advantage.

And after the whole Podrick Payne relationship, I think it best if I don’t actually try to ‘be in a relationship’. With Harry we can even use the cover more to our advantage.”

Jaquen finally talks: “Fair enough. The request seems reasonable enough. Why don’t you want Harry to know about this meeting?”

Sansa scoffs: “Oh please, he has been waiting for the day we do an undercover mission like this. I’d rather it not go too much to his head – which it definitely will if he knows I had the idea. I’d rather he think I was forced into ‘dating’ him.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON/ BAELON

 

Ever since their meeting sitting in the snow in the woods, Baelon couldn’t forget the smell of her perfume, the warmth of her shoulder pressed against him, her hair shinning as it blew in the wind, her rosy cheeks…

He knew she wasn’t Lyanna Winters, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

If anything the fact that she was in a way more of a mystery to him now, made him want her more. Baelon wanted to be the one to uncover all her secrets; he wanted her to open to him, like she would do for no other man.

So starting the following Monday, he made it his mission to slowly bring down her walls, get closer to her, know her- lies and truths alike. He would go to the break room on the 44th floor each time he noticed her not at her desk, he would try and say a few words to her after each meeting they were both in. He would even create more meetings with the Deadfort Branch to supervise Roose Bolton, but mainly to be as long as possible in the same room as her, to memorise all her ticks, all her glances, all her smiles…

One day he couldn’t take it anymore, and assigned more work to Bolton’s team, requesting them to finish it that day, knowing that Roose would be unable to pass by the Manor as he had a train that evening for the Deadfort.

He hoped that once Lyanna came to his house with the papers, he could persuade her to stay for dinner… and possibly more.

However his plan had backfired.

He couldn’t hide his annoyance when Henry Waynwood, not Lyanna Winters, is announced that evening.

As he greets the other man, he wonders what his relationship with Lyanna is. Baelon knows that Mr Waynwood has numerous admirers within the office, however he never notice Lyanna being close to the man. – _So how come he is now delivering files for her_?

“Mr Haywood, I didn’t realise you were part of the Deadfort Team?” Baelon says grimly.

The fair haired man seems unfazed by Baelon’s irritated sate, and responds calmly: “No sir, however, on my way out Ms Winters was in a rush to somewhere, and asked if I could deliver the papers in her stead.”

“Are you not on the 43rd floor, with Manderly?”

“Yes sir, but Ms Winters passed by my office, when she saw my light was still on?”

_\- She should be passing by my office… or my house, not yours_!

Baelon cleared his throat from his internal frustration: “Huh… well thank you. I will have a look at these.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The next morning, no matter how much he tries to concentrate on work, Baelon can only think of Lyanna, and why she didn’t come to his house the previous evening.

_Did she really have somewhere to rush off to? Or is she avoiding me_?

During the last three weeks he had noticed the subtle brushes her cheeks would show when he talked to her. He was sure that even if she didn’t feel the same attraction for him that he felt for her, she was not immune to him.

_Or maybe she’s playing hard to get? Maybe this is all someway to seduce me_ …

Unable to take it any longer, he asks his assistant, Mrs Teal, to ask Miss Winters in his office.

 

When she comes in, her figure takes his breath away. Once the door closes behind her, her hallucinogenic scent fills the room, making it hard for him to concentrate. Especially when he feels his body – his lower body more specifically- react to her presence once more.

He coughs: “Miss Winters, please take a seat.”

“Mr Targaryen.”

Gods his name on her lips, makes him want to throw her on his desk, and taste those lips… _what would they sound like saying Baelon… or saying Jon Snow_ …?

 

He tries to concentrate: “I looked over the files left for me last night, very impressive work.”

“Thank you sir, I’m sorry Mr Bolton couldn’t be here today to hear your praises.”

_It’s not Roose bloody Bolton I want to praise_ …

Instead he responds: “Was the work mainly done by Mr Bolton and yourself? A lot of the side notes, and most of the translation seem to have done by you.”

“Yes sir, I did most of the research and translating.”

“Did you study many languages at university?”

“I did International Languages and Relations. I studied several languages including Dothraki, High Valyrian, Low Valyrian, Language of Asshai, Lhazareen, the Summer Tongue, the Trade Tongue, Dornish and the True Tongue.”

“I’m impressed. You would get on well with my aunt: Daenerys has a fascination for languages. I’m surprised that you know the True Tongue though. I do not know many people who still speak the language of the Children of the Forest.” – _I only know one, Bran Stark_.

“Tongues, and Human Relations are a great interest of mine.”

Although her words are said so simply, Baelon can’t help but hear them in a different light.

After a small pause, his mind goes back to the reason he has called her: “Well as I said the reports were really impressive, the work that both Mr Bolton and you do is as always commendable, which is why it surprised me when Mr Waynwood dropped them off last night.” His eyes pouring into hers enquiringly.

Lyanna looking a little flustered replies: “I’m sorry sir, I hadn’t realised that whomever the messenger was, was important.”

“Well, it’s just that I would have liked to either look it over with Mr Bolton or yourself, when I first received it.”

“I’m truly sorry, but Mr Bolton had a train to catch, and I was already running late.”

With a sigh, Baelon realised that he would probably not get any more from the woman then, and that he should probably cut the meeting now, before it ran on for too long and Mrs Teal would wonder what they would doing.

“Well thank you again for the file, I will send my comments by the end of the day.”

“Of course.”

As he followed her to the door, both their hands reached for the handle at the same time. His heart skipped a beat at the touch, and Baelon wondered if the sunning woman had felt it as well.

Then he noticed their bodies had somehow come closer together. He realised he could take the smallest step and her slender body would be pressed against him.

Her perfume was intoxicating now more than ever. He felt his half-erect groin, become even more alive. His right arm was still encircling her protectively. He wanted to press his hand against her, press his chest against her back, place his face within her hair, and smell her.

So lost in his trance that he was only half aware whispering her name: “Lyanna.”

_Gods I want to say that name over and over again_ …

 

But it seemed the word had broken the spell and seconds later she ran out the door, leaving him all alone.

 

The rest of the day, his mind was even less in the work placed in front of him… his whole office seemed to been impregnated by her presence that morning. He could even look at the chair in front of his desk without his groin stirring: thinking of her, in her tight skirt, and fitted blouse.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Later in the evening, unable to hold it any longer, he drove to her house.

 

He knew it was stupid. He knew he shouldn’t go, but he couldn’t help it. She was like a siren, and he was but a man, trapped by her song.

He would simply go up to her door, and _… seduce her? …Talk to her?...ask her out_?

 

However all his thoughts vanished when he noticed the two figures standing in front of her half opened door.

There, just outside her threshold, was Lyanna and Henry Waynwood.

He slowly drove past the house, and parked a little further down the street, before looking from the back of his car.

They were talking.

_That’s fine, they’re just friends… just talking… now leave … let her go inside…_

 

Unfortunately the two didn’t seem to follow the same thoughts as Baelon. Instead he saw Henry Waynwood cup her face in his hand, and lower his lips to hers.

Baelon wanted to scream, run out of the car and yank the other man away from her…but seeing her respond to the other man’s advances, mould her body closer to him, Baelon was unable to move, unable to look away…

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Baelon didn’t know how long he stayed there looking at the door that was now closed. After a (wayyy tooo long) goodnight kiss, Waynwood had finally left, and Lyanna had gone inside.

Finally Baelon settled back down in his seat, and drove back to the Manor.

 

He had been back a bit over an hour, drinking his third glass of scotch, the liquid burning his memories of the evening, when a knock came from the side door.

“Enter.”

Jaqen H'ghar entered, looking as serious as ever.

“Sir.”

“Jaquen… anything to report?” Baelon inquired, wondering why the head of his security was visiting him so late in the evening.

“It has come to our attention that for the last months you have done your own investigation into Mr Bolton, and his associates.”

Baelon not in the mood for cryptic talk, responded bluntly “So?”

“We would rather you come to us if you have any suspicions about your employers. As it so happens we have done an investigation into Mr Bolton as well.”

Baelon replied through gritted teeth: “IS that so. Well forgive me if I’m not in a sharing mood. You still refuse to tell me the extent of my security team, or to share you’re information with me, so I feel that it is a little hard for me to trust you.”

“Yes, we have realised that, that is why, I am prepared to share with you our files on MR Bolton, and on his son, and their associates.”

“Greeeattt.” Baelon replied sarcastically, before taking another sip of the auburn liquid.

“Another thing: as you have probably also realised, we are also looking into Miss Winters.”

Baelon quickly looked at the other man, before looking out the window, but he didn’t reply.

“Since we want your trust, I have deemed it prudent to tell you that one of our team is keeping a close eye on her.”

Baelon still didn’t reply, or look back at the man.

Jaquen continued: “Would you like to meet him… the last member of the team?”

Baelon surprised, turned: “He is here?”

“You wanted our trust… so yes, we thought it best if you knew the whole of your protective team.”

Baelon couldn’t help but cough in surprise: “Huh…fine… send him in.”

 

A few moments later, Baelon nearly dropped his glass when another man followed Jaquen through the side door. Jaquen spoke, introducing the other member on the team:

“Sir, this is Harry Hardyng although you probably know him as Henry Waynwood.”

 


	10. Chapter 8 – An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month later... middle of winter in Winter Town.

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

Roslyn dipped a cookie in her coffee and spoke with her mouth full. “So, have you decided on what you’re going to do with Henry for tomorrow night?”

“No, we haven’t discussed it.”

From across the break room, Sansa couldn’t help but notice that Baelon Targaryen had stopped sifting through the cabinet for a moment and froze. It seemed like he was trying to listen to what they were saying. He glanced over at her for a fleeting moment with a troublesome expression.

She looked back at her friend and sighed: “it’s not that big a deal anyway-“

“- Not a big deal! Oh come on Lyanna… only you could have nabbed one of the best looking guys of the firm, and have him take you out to the Winter Ball and not think it a ‘big deal’. Obviously where you are from, you don’t understand the North: the Winter Ball is a ‘bid deal’. It’s the event of the year here. In the south Aegon’s Celebrations might be the highlight, but in the North it’s of about the _Winter Festivities_. I mean come on the Northern capital is called _Winter_ Town, the military school is called _Winter-_ fell Academy, the big house on the hill is called _Winter_ -fell Manor…should I go on? … Gods with a last name like yours, you would have thought it was an important part of your up-bringing.”

It had actually been a huge part of Sansa Stark upbringing.

Every year when she had been a young girl, the Starks were the ones to open the Ball. Her father had met Catelyn Tully for the first time at one of these balls. Sansa Stark had met Joffrey Baratheon for the first time at one of these balls.

It had been the last time she had attended one. Twelve years old, she was convinced that the beautiful blond-haired fifteen year old was to be her future husband, who would love her, protect her, have children with… she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Now twelve years later, she was dreading it. Not only would she be reliving those memories, but she would be doing it with Harry there … and Baelon Targaryen there…

Shaking her thoughts, she looked back at Roslin, forcing herself not to look at the corner of the room to see if a certain someone was still there.

“Have you chosen a dress for the ball yet?”

“Oh yes… a dark green one, with a low cut at the front, and a slit for the right leg… “

Sansa could help but chuckle at her friend’s risqué fashion sense: “haha Gods Ros… should I ask who you have chosen your alluring outfit for?”

“Who else?... for the boss of course… and if I heard correctly his brother is also coming, so if he’s unavailable, there is always a back up plan.”

“Aegon Targaryen is coming to the Winter Ball?” Sansa asked, pretending that this was news. Mercedene had known that all of the Targaryens would be coming to visit the youngest member, for the week of the Winter Festivities.

“Yea- apparently the whole gang is coming: Daenerys, Aegon, and Rhaenys. Daenerys is bringing that gorgeous Tyroshi, Daario Naharis, with her, Rhaenys is bringing her gorgeous Dornish husband, and apparently Miss Jordayne could not make it, so poor Aegon Targaryen will have no one to warm his bed at night.”

“Ros! He’s engaged!”

“Yea… I know…” she replied with a defeated sighed. To then add with a wink: “… that’s why he’s my plan B…. and if all else fails, I’m sure I could join the gorgeous Oberyn Martell and his lovely paramour in a tryst… I’ve never had a Dornish woman before. Haha.”

“Gods Roslin you are insatiable.”

“And don’t you know it.”

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

BAELON/ JON

 

Baelon arrived back at his office with a frown.

After settling his warm mug on his desk, he couldn’t help but look down from his mezzanine floor, to the 44th floor below.

Lyanna Winterss desk was still empty.

Probably still chatting in the break room with Roslin Redmane talking about ‘ _Henry Waynwood_ ’. Gods he wanted to punch that guy.

Henry Waynwood -or really Harry Hardyng – always seemed to like his _mission_ a little too much. For The last month, every time Baelon noticed him with Lyanna, he always seemed to be getting too comfortable around her. Baelon couldn’t help but want to beat him to a pulp every time Harry – _Henry_ \- _whatever his name_ would put a hand on her, his arm around her waist, his lips on hers…

Baelon knew that he shouldn’t trust Lyanna, and she was definitely hiding something, but he couldn’t help but feel protective of her and didn’t like that any man was using her, could possibly hurt her,… that any man didn’t have true intentions with her.

At least when she had been with Podrick Payne, he could see that the man had truly cared for her, and in a way he had seemed more than respectful of her… The more Baelon thought about it, the more he realised that Podrick had never once been out of line. He had never seen them kiss… not once. Sansa would always be the one to kiss Podrick on the cheek, even though it had been clear he wanted to do more. But he had never pushed for more…

Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem as gallant, and Baelon couldn’t help but feel his intentions were much less noble.

 

 

The sound of a _beep_ brought him out of his thoughts. – His intercom

 

“Your three oclock, Mr Howland Reed is here to see you Mr Targaryen …”

“Thank you Mrs Teal, please let him through.”

With that, Baelon stood up from his chair, ready to receive the older man. Once he was shown in the two shook hands.

“It was really nice to meet you Mr Reed.”

“Please call me Howland.”

“Well then I insist you call me Baelon…”

 

For the next hour all thoughts of Lyanna Winters or Henry Waynwood were forgotten for trading’s with the crannogmen of the Neck region.

 

When they finally had come to an agreeable conclusion to the meeting, Howland Reed, let his back rest comfortably in his chair, studying Baelon.

“You know: I had heard a lot about you from a dear friend of mine.”

“Oh really? I hope they only had good things to say?” asked Baelon, as he poured them both a bit of whisky.

“He did. And I’m glad to report that Ned Stark once again was not wrong.”

Jon nearly chocked on his drink: “General Stark?!”

“Yes Ned and I knew each other since military school: when we had been the WA together. I think we became friend more or less at the same time as the young Robb Stark and you became friends…” replied Howland Reed, studying even more intently the younger man’s face.

Jon looked at him in surprise: “Mr Reed-“

“-Howland please”

“Howland… not many people know that much about my past: most think that I only stayed on a one year exchange at the WA…”

“Yes… I assure you that being one of the few you who know a lot about your past, I will keep all your secrets hidden.”

“Well thank you then for your understanding. I must say it is nice to meet someone who knew General Stark well.”

“Yes, he was a dear friend… Tragedy what happened to that family. I actually do sometimes receive news from the young two boys. My two children are actually good friends with both Stark boys. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if something were to happen between my daughter and the older one… not how often she talks about him” Howland added with a chuckle.

“Meera is your daughter?” Jon asked, remembering the name that Bran Stark kept on talking about every five minutes in their last phone call.

“Ahh… the boy seems to be as smitten as my daughter is then. Well that’s good. That family deserves a bit of happiness… and so does my daughter.”

“Well I can tell you she couldn’t be in better hands…”

After a small pause with the both of them smiling, Jon noticed that Howland Reed’s face suddenly became more serious.

“Baelon…I’m glad that this meeting went well, and that Targryen Corporations was able to come to an agreement with our part of the Neck. However I must be honest and say that this meeting was only one of the reasons I was so keen to meet with you in person. I-I also wanted to talk to you about your past…”

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

You look beautiful tonight M…”

“Its Lyanna…” Sansa replied with a stern warning, as she re-shifted Harry’s hand higher up, to the small of her back. “… and please refrain from touching my ass, I believe you know what I can do to a man’s testicles with just one hand.”

Instead of shrinking at the threat, Harry couldn’t help but chucked: “Oh come on my love…I’m only playing the role of the doting boyfriend, who can’t keep his hands off the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

Sansa didn’t reply. As an alternative to punching her team member, she decided it would be best to look away from him, and scan the room.

Even though she was annoyed at him for having _grabbed_ her, she could help but feel a little sorry for Harry. She has known him since she was 17. They had soon become close friends, and equals in the House of B &W. Unfortunately, it also quickly became quite clear that he wanted more than friendship from her. However, as much as she tried, she had never felt anything more than brotherly love for him… she had never felt nothing more platonic for anyone… at least not until Baelon Targaryen.

As they continued to sway silently in unison with the soft tune, Sansa felt Harry’s arm now placed around her waist, his other hand holding her right hand softly.

If anything his stance was now protective and caring.

However Sansa couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable in his arms… it wasn’t his arms she was wishing to be in.

_Noo Sansa… stop thinking like this… just enjoy the dance… the evening and stop thinking about you know who_ …

Unfortunately, her body seemed to be going against what she was thinking because the next moment her eyes had shifted, and clashed with Baelon’s, unable to then look away.

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

BAELON/ JON

 

Baelon looked at the crowd dancing in front of him, without really noticing anything. His thoughts were otherwise occupied, thinking of the conversation he had had with Howland Reed the day before.

 

“How’s my favourite nephew doing?”

His mind being brought back to the present, Baelon turned his head away from the dancers, and replied to Oberyn: “I’m not actually your nephew you know.”

“… yea but it doesn’t stop you from being my favourite… Since Aegon has gotten engaged he’s less fun… plus, you may have slept with half of Westeros, as your sister likes to proclaim, but at least _you_ didn’t sleep with any of my daughters.”

Baelon coughed, “Huh… you – you know about Aeg and Obara?”

Oberyn eyed him: “Aeg and Obara… Aeg and Nym… Aeg and Tyenne…You might not be my true nephew but at least you have the decency to not have the ‘Targaryen urge’ to sleep with your cousins.* ”

“Well Rhaenys did marry Quentyn…”

“Yes… but your brother’s fiancée isn’t any of my daughters that he slept with.”

Baelon couldn’t help but laugh: “Ohh come on Obe: do you really think any of them would of said ‘yes’ to him?... In any case, do you really think you of all people should chastise him?”

“I never slept with any of my cousins!... but yes I guess you are right, they would have eaten him alive if he was marrying Obara, Nym or Tye.”

They both looked onto the dance floor.

“Speaking of beautiful women… is she the femme fatale?” asked Oberyn, nodding to someone in the distance.

Baelon pretending not to know who he was talking about, asked casually: “Who?”

“The red-headed beauty you who haven’t stopped eying throughout the evening… except if you are eyeing the handsome man she has been dancing with… in that case, I say ‘finally’: I’ve been waiting for one of you Targaryen men to be interested in _all_ of what the world has to offer.”

“Haha Oberyn… no, sorry… still only interested in women.”

“And one woman in particular, if I might add.” Oberyn replied looking at him sceptically.

Baelon sighed: “Fine … yes… there is a certain lady that has peaked my interest, but she is not a femme fatale…”

“Well whoever she is … She sure does play her role rather well…”

Baelon looked at him in confusion: “What do you mean?”

Oberyn chuckled: “Trust me Bae, I _know_ body language, and as much as that man she is with is as gorgeous as you and I, his body is screaming for hers, but she is definitely _not_ at all interested.”

“What?” Baelon asked incredulously.

“Trust me: all her posture and positioning is screaming: no interest, _NO SEX_.”

With that, his uncle left him with a wink, to join with Roslin Redmane and Ellaria Sand, who were talking farther away from the dance.

 

Going through Oberyn’s words, Baelon looked up, to then have his eyes clash directly into Lyanna’s.

Their eyes continued to hold throughout the song. Then, as the dance finished, Baelon moved towards the couple, her eyes calling to him.

Within moments, without realising how he truly got there, he was by her side.

Not taking his eyes off of hers, Baelon cleared his throat:

“hum… I was wondering if I could have the next dance.”

Lyanna didn’t answer, instead her eyes slowly went between his and Harry’s.

Reluctantly Harry answered: “Of course.” Before slowly retreating, whilst Baelon finally took Lyanna Winters in his arms.

 

They started swaying as the next song started. The whole time Baelon relishing the fact that he finally had a moment with her in his arms. He could feel her nervousness. Her pulse was a bit quicker than normal, and it seemed that, unlike moments ago, she was now unable to look him in the eyes.

 

“You know … I have been wanting to dance with you since the very first moment I laid eyes on you.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her reaction, her eyes involuntarily going back straight to his, in surprise.

“Excuse me?”

He chuckled: “That’s the first thing you ever said to me… that evening, at my welcome party… right when I first saw you, I wanted to dance with you.”

Lyanna stammered a response: “Mr Targaryen… I- I don’t …”

Baelon cleared his throat: “Huh... sorry”, but then he pressed his body closer to hers, and continued as if all was fine: “…but you see, I can’t help but wanting to be honest with you … you seemed to not be enjoying your dance with Mr Waynwood very much, so I thought it my duty to save you from such boredom….”

“Mr Targeryen, Mr Waynwood is the man I am currently seeing-“

“-he might be, but he doesn’t seem to be the man you should be seeing…”

Lyanna took a step back in shock at his comment, and Baelon reluctantly let his arms slack, without fully letting her go.

“I’m sorry Ms Winters…I think it’s the festivities that have gone to my head… please let me get us a beverage, to cool down with.”

There was a long pause, where she just stared back at him.

“Please… let me redeem myself.”

With a sigh, Lyanna replied: “Fine, I am not one to hold it against someone if they try to apologise.”

“Thank you.” Baelon replied, as he took her arm in the crook of his, and led her to the bar.

 

After they had their drinks, he led her outside to the patio, for some fresh air.

 

As Baelon silently looked up at the starry sky, he sensed Lyanna shiver slightly next to him.

“Oh … please take my jacket.” He said, already removing it and placing it on her bare shoulders.

“Thank you…a bit foolish of me: going outside in only an evening dress. It seems that I am out of sorts tonight.”

“Are you not enjoying the evening?

“Oh is lovely…the room looks amazing. Thank you Mr Targaryen for sponsoring it …”

“Well, as it was my first one, and I _am_ the new boss, I thought it best to contribute…I am happy to have played a part in making everyone evening eventful…although I can’t help but note that you don’t seem to be having the best evening…even before my rude comment that is.”

Lyanna blushed, looking away from him: “Oh …the evening is lovely… it’s just that….”

“Yes?” prompted Baelon.

“… well if you must know, it makes me think back to a period of my life I rather not remember.”

“So your foul mood has nothing to do with me?” He replied with a small smile.

Lyanna couldn’t help but smile in return: “No sir, it does not.”

Seeing that she was still shivering a bit, Baelon stepped a little closer, and put his arms around her.

“I am glad…I thought I had royally meshed things up earlier, and I am glad to hear that this is not the case.”

“No it isn’t …”

Her eyes were on his now, both silently looking into the other.

Their gases continued to hold for what seemed like an eternity, when Baelon slowly started to bend his head down. Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, his lips barely brushed the corner of her mouth as if asking permission. Her perfume had now invaded his nostrils. The air between their lips was so thin, as if it was the ghost of a kiss, before their lips would actually touch-

-“Mr. Targaryen?... Mr Targaryen?”

Lyanna quickly stepped back, and fled back inside, just before Mrs Teal appeared at one of the other French windows.

“Mr Targeryen, sorry to interrupt, but Ms Daenerys Targrayen is looking for you. She is requesting that you join her in the adjoining conference room.”

“Thank you Mrs Teal, please tell my aunt I’ll be there in just a moment.”

“Of course” and with that his devoted secretary left him to his thoughts

 

-Suddenly a voice from behind him that he didn’t even know had been there, brought him back from the memory of kiss that nearly happened.

“Now _that’s_ what I would call true body language…”Oberyn stated with a grin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment: * - in my story, instead of sleeping with brothers and sisters, Targaryens are known for sleeping/ marrying their cousins. Sleeping with cousins isn’t encouraged, but isn’t taboo. (examples: and Aegon Targaryen and Visenya Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen and Rhaenys Targaryen, Aerys Targaryen and Rhaella Valaria, Rhaenys Targaryen and Quentyn Martell, Aegon Targaryen and Obara Sand, Aegon and Nymeria Sand, Aegon and Tyenne)


	11. Chapter 9 – Confusions and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the same evening, at the Winter Ball

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

_Gods, how can I be so foolish, so careless…_

For the last months she had done everything in her power to stay away from bloody Baelon Targaryen, and now she all but fell into his arms! But as she silently yelled at herself, Sansa knew that the evening had weakened her. More specifically memories of an evening had weakened her. If she was truly honest with herself: ever since she had come back to the North, and then met Baelon Targaryen, the identity of Mercedene had been slowly broken down, and had slowly showed Sansa. Not that any of this was an excuse for what she had nearly let happen.

_Gods, why do I keep these things happening … why does he affect me so much…_

Another voice inside her answered: _Well maybe it’s because he’s so dam gorgeous … those arms are nothing to shy away from… and that woodland smell…_

_STOP!!…stop thinking like that!…_

Unfortunately the intoxicating smell of Baelon Targaryen had followed her, even after running away from him, and thus not helping in forgetting about their not-so moment outside on the patio.

After a few moments to herself, in an empty corridor, Sansa realised why: she was still wearing his jacket. His jacket: which smelt exactly like the alluring man.

_Crap! Now not only am I definitely surrounded by him, I’ll definitely have to see him again…_

 

After a few moments reflection, Sansa decided it be best to quick interrupt the meeting with his aunt and give him back his jacket then and there, than to possibly have to give it to him later, when it might just be the two of them.

_But then Daenerys Targaryen might think I’m some kind of floosy sleeping with her nephew… well its better than actually becoming a floosy that he does end up sleeping with… or I could just say I found his jacket abandoned on a seat … or I could just give it to Mrs Teal… at least she not a huge gossip like the rest of the office…_

With half her mind decided on the idea, Sansa moved towards the area where she had seen Mrs Teal, Mr Targaryen and Mr Martell go, hoping Mrs Teal would be outside the conference room.

At the first set of doors, she passed Sandor with two other men she didn’t know, but assumed they were part one of the other Targaryen’s security team. Sandor gave her a sceptical look, but didn’t say anything, just nodded at her that she could continue.

When she reached the second set of doors, right before the conference room, she was disappointed to note that no one was there.

_Damn you Genevieve Teal_!

But then when she thought about it, this could be fine. She could just leave the jacket on the chair by the entrance and just be on her way- security guards don’t gossip: they just observe in the background.

With that resolved, she quickly removed the jacket from her shoulders, irritated with herself that she felt a small pang of disappointment when this happened. And stepped towards the chair.

 

As she put down the jacket, she couldn’t help but over hear a few words of the conversation going no inside.

_“… I do not trust Jon Snow … still haunted by all those killed by the White Walkers…”_

The door muffled most of what was being said, but Sansa was sure it was Daenerys Targaryen who was currently talking. Unable to stop herself, she listened some more, although it was broken up through the door:

“… _I sent you back to the North … face the demons of Jon Snows past … wait for more minimal progress I sent you … You have locked it up … you become dangerous…”_

Another voice, who she was sure, was Baelon’s, responded, this time much louder and closer to the door, and her:

_“I’m dangerous?! … dangerous… Yes! maybe I am…I mean you and I have both read the Castle Black Report on the former Commander… his undercover operations, his time with the Freefolk, how many people he’s killed… ”_

Sansa stepped back from the door, not wanting to hear anymore.

She had always known there that Baelon Targaryen had a somewhat mysterious past. I mean, out of the three children of Rhaegar, he was the only one who’s past hadn’t been shared with the general public. Only certain bits had. There was also the report – RED 3- she had read for this assignment, showing a whole other side to the Targaryen heir.

_\- and let’s not forget your own investigation into Robb Stark/ Jon Snow_ …

But when she heard him say himself that he was ‘dangerous’, and with such violence and contempt… Sansa had been stunned. Clearly she had missed something.

As she slowly stepped back, ignoring Sandor and the other guards, she went over all she had just heard.

‘ _You have locked it up_ ’?... ‘ _all those killed by the White Walkers_ ’… What had they meant ‘ _the Castle Black Report on the former Commander_ ’?

 

Sansa was so caught up in her thoughts that she had no idea where she was walking. She only was brought out of her trance when she was down an empty corridor and heard two other voices talking softly.

 

_Gods this seems to be the night for eaves dropping_ …

 

But before she could turn away, and give the two some privacy, she recognised the voices: Roose Bolton and Walton Steelshanks.

Knowing who they were, Sansa quickly changed her mind and hid herself in the shadows of an alcove, where she couldn’t see them, put could easily hear everything they were saying.

“…and what are we going to do about the dragon bastard?”

“Patience … it’s all part of a larger plan. You need to wait…”

“Wait! I’m done waiting! If that cunt sends me on one more fucking errand, I’m going to flay him. He was fucking Commander Snow! Or do you not remember him killing Locke seven years ago… and you’re doing nothing about it!”

“Steels! Shut up! Locke had made a foolish decision years ago and paid for it…as for the bastard, no I have not forgotten who he was, or is… but you and I both know he has a team of lap dogs that surround him constantly. The situation calls for some kind of a distraction… and it so happens I know exactly what, or in this case, who is the perfect distraction for Baelon Targaryen…”

“You mean your lovely secretary? Half the men of the office want to fuck that, not really a news flash.”

Sansa felt her heart skip a beat as they started talking about her.

“No, it’s more than wanting to just sleep with her, for Targaryen… he becomes someone else when she’s around.”

- _Whaaattt??_

“I become somebody else when she around: my cock is at half-mast every time she’s in the room! That little cock-tease. I have half a mind to find her now and show her what a real man feels like, nothing like that puny blond pretty boy…”

Sansa tried to hold back a gag as she listened on.

The two men continued talking for another ten minutes before heading back out to the party.

 

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

BAELON/ JON

 

Oberyn was still grinning when they walked into the room.

As they walked in, Daenrys turned away from Aegon and Rhaenys, and greeted them: “Bae, Oberyn thank you for coming. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but something has come up in the Riverland Branch, and I have to leave early tomorrow morning.”

Baelon questioned her worried: “It’s not Frey is it?”

Dany looked back at him uncertainly: “Nothing I can’t handle. Anyways, since I’m leaving, I have to rush the chat I wanted to have with you to now. Please sit.”

“Fine, but let me pour myself a drink first. I’m sensing this is going to be a _fun_ conversation.”

 

Once both Oberyn and Baelon were seated with a drink in their hands, Daenerys asked:

“How are things going in Winter town?” asked Daenerys.

“This is the super important conversation you wanted to have with me before you left?” asked Bae sarcastically.

“Just answer the bloody question Bae” chastised Rhaenys.

Baelon eyed his older sister before folding: “It’s good – we’ve increased by already 15 %, the office is-“

“- I know about the office, I have seen the numbers, I’ve ran this company for the last decade, I pretty sure I can understand when I’m making a profit.” Dany sighed exasperated.

“So why are you asking me?” retorted Baelon.

Oberyn chuckled in the background, and Aegon nudged him.

Dany, ignoring them, replied: “I am asking my nephew how _he_ is enjoying Winter Town: _how_ are _you_ settling in?”

Baelon sighed into his drink: “Why does everyone keep asking me that?“

“Because it’s a new city… a new life… first time that you’re on your own… from what I know, I am pretty sure that not even Jon Snow had ever been to Winter Town before: how do you like it?”

Baelon snorted at the comment: “On my own… with a team of three prying spies who know more about my life than I do? …trust me I haven’t been very lonely these last few months.”

Aegon interjected: “On come Bae… you know they are there for your own good…”

Baelon rose from his chair, unable to control himself any longer: “MY OWN GOOD!?! … They are investigating my whole branch!”

He then turned to his aunt: “You gave me this job, but you don’t even trust me!... I’m probably not Targaryen enough to handle myself, isn’t that right! I mean I am merely Rhaegar Targaryen’s bastard… _‘let’s give him a bit more responsibility for all his ‘good behaviour’ but let’s not put too much trust in him!... We’ll put professional spies on him, to make sure he does his job properly, and doesn’t get in over his head.’_ ”

Daenerys stared at him: “You’re outburst… that rage… proves that you are a dragon… I have NEVER considered you anything other than my nephew.”

“So when were you going to tell me that you had instructed my security team to look into Roose Bolton?! To look at more than half my personnel without my knowledge!...You say you consider me your nephew, but you don’t trust me! ”

“BAELON! You were – you ARE - too attached to the situation, for me to allow you to be a part of it:

We all have a past but you have divided yourself Bae: there’s the Baelon that I know and love – that I consider more than a nephew: a son… you, Rhaenys, and Aegon may have come from my brother, but I have come to consider you all my own.

But there is a whole other side to you that you close away- that you won’t allow your own family to see… You have a second life that I – that RHANAERYS, that AEGON, - barely know anything about!”

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Baelon exclaimed in response: “We’ve all had another life!... The whole world knows that Aegon and Rhaenys were once known as ‘Griff Connington’ and ‘Cat Connington’! Don’t pretend that your own time in Essos never existed! I have Jon Snow, as you all have your own pasts!”

“Yes we do, but we actually know about those pasts… you have barely said more than a couple sentences about Jon Snow.

So yes I didn’t tell you because as much as I love Baelon Targaryen, I do not trust Jon Snow, a man stuck in the past, who still 24, still mourning the death of his best friend, still haunted by all those killed by the White Walkers… I sent you back to the North to hopefully face the demons of Jon Snows past because you would barely talk to anyone of us about it in the last SIX YEARS, so yes instead of waiting another six years to wait for more minimal progress I sent you … but I would be damned before I would send you away with only Baelon Targaryen against the ghosts of Jon Snow’s past!

You have locked it up and that means you become dangerous – especially to yourself.”

“I’m dangerous?! … dangerous… Yes! maybe I am…I mean you and I have both read the Castle Black Report on the former Commander… his undercover operations, his time with the Freefolk, how many people he’s killed… ”

“Bae- that’s not what I meant, and you know it. You’re closed off; you won’t let any of us in!”

“That’s because for the first twenty years of my life I was all ALONE!” Pointing to Aegon and Rhaenys, Baelon continued:

“They at least had each other! And you had your army! All those people that followed you! Yes you were in exile but you always knew who you were, who your family was, your past.

I had NO ONE, I didn’t know who I was who my parents were – for all I knew, my parents were somewhere, and they did not want me!”

Taking a breath, he continued, this time pointing to Oberyn: “By the time I was able to walk the only family I knew sent me away! I was alone … EVERYTIME I got close to someone they took them away from me!! So sorry if I don’t share everything with you… SORRY if I keep some of me closed off… because it seems that it’s better if you don’t get too close to me.”

Sinking into his chair, he started laughing hysterically: “… you know what? … maybe it’s best if you don’t trust me … haha here’s something Jon Snow found out: I’m half Stark!… I’m not only have madness from my father’s side… but I’m also cursed from my mother’s side…the Gods must have been very bored the day they decided to create me…”

There was silence in the room, as Baelon placed his face between his fingers in exhaustion.

 

“What do you mean you’re half Stark?”

Baelon looked up at his brother.

“I found out yesterday… I met …Howland Reed. He was a friend of Eddard Stark’s. He told me that the year before he died Rhaegar Targaryen had started an affair with one of the university interns that were working at Targaryen Corporation… a certain Lyanna Stark: none other than Rickard Stark’s niece… his ward, since his sister was dead. Lyanna was like a sister to Eddard Stark and when she got pregnant, she told him and Howland the whole thing.

By that time, the whole of Westeros knew that Rhaegar and Elia Martell were separated but since Lyanna Stark was so young… and the fact that there was so much tension between Targaryen Corporation and Stark Holdings… it’s never been hidden that Rickard Stark and Aerys Targaryen hated each other… well … let’s just say they thought it best to not go running to their respective parents with the ‘happy’ news…. And then Rhaegar was killed…” his words trailed, the rest remained unsaid.

“…are …are you sure about this?... can you really trust this man?” questioned Rhaenys.

“I later called to Arthur Dayne… he had been one of father’s bodyguards… he confirmed it.”

Oberyn exclaimed: “Arthur!... Arthur knew about this!”

“Yea… he told me he was the one who gave me to you?”

“Yes he was… but he always told me that Rhaegar had told him to keep you safe and he didn’t know who your mother was… After the assassination, the whole of the ‘Kingsguard’ was being investigated so he gave you to me, since he couldn’t really protect you whilst he was inspected himself…”

There was another moment of silence before Daenerys added, “Well Bae, I’m glad you were able to share with us this information. I’m sure a part of you is relieved that you finally know who your mother is. I, for one did always think that you did have a Northern disposition to you…

However, the reason I called you here is because you have started your own investigation on certain people of your branch. From his report, the leader of your security informed me that you are also looking into Roose Bolton, and his associates…”

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

After the ‘telling off’ he had received from his aunt, Baelon had tried to find Lyanna again, but she had apparently disappeared soon after their meeting on the patio. Instead he had found his jacket, neatly folded, in front of the meeting room.

 

Irritated in the fact that she was once again running away from his presence, (and from Dany’s telling off) Baelon had spent the rest of the night with his brother, drinking, and didn’t notice till early the next morning that he had received a message from Grenn:

‘ ** _Have some more information. Meet me tomorrow at the usual place, at sun set. Will be a few to seem like we’re old friends catching up_**.’

Reading the message, Jon couldn’t help but think: … _Well Aunty is definitely going to love this._

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

“We were able to find information about her finally.”

Jon looked up at his friend full of curiosity.

“I thought you had more information about Bolton?”

Pyp replied: “No, still surveying him, he’s definitely up to something… but in the meantime decided to enjoy looking into someone a little more eye appealing.” He finished with a wink.

Forcing himself not to punch his friend, Jon questioned: “So what did you find out about ‘Lyanna Winters’? Is she working for Bolton?

“Her name is Alayne Stone.” prompted Grenn “and there’s a reason why she is hiding – more than one…”

“What do you mean?”

Grenn passed him the file as he replied: “she is related to the Starks… or at least there is a lot that points to the fact that she probably is.”

“What!” Jon exclaimed as he quickly opened the file.

Pyp added in: “Yea- it would seem that she is most likely Lysa Aryn’s daughter, although Lysa must of had her when she was still a Tully – no one knows who the father was, definitely not Jon Aryn… not many people knew she even existed, at least not before Jon Aryn’s death.”

Grenn continued, as Jon read the file:

“Research shows that old man Tully was furious that his daughter ‘soiled’ herself, so he hid the child, and then was still able to get a somewhat of a ‘good match’ for his daughter, with Jon Aryn.

But it seems that once Jon Aryn died, Lysa wanted to find her child and asked Petyr Baelish to find her.”

“Could he be the father?” asked Jon.

“No – well at least I really hope not.”

“Why do you say that?”

After taking a long gulp of his beer, Grenn sighed and went on: “Because, from what we found, there is evidence that not long after Petyr Baelish married Lysa Aryn, he started having his sights on her natural daughter… ‘why go for the older one if one can have a newer model’ kind of thing…

Jon gripped the file in rage, _that fucking bastard_ – “What did he do to her?”

“We’re not sure… but it can’t be anything great. During the investigation of his murder, as you know there was evidence against the Lannister’s… well the police also found out Baelish had a undercover sex trade. He had a whore house with a lot of underage girls. When they were questioned several talked about how he had a close attachment to his ‘step-daughter’…. It was also said that she was never left alone with anyone, not even the other women… the exception being her younger half-brother. It seems that Baelish either had her locked up alone, or with her brother or, when she was out, he was always at arms distance from her.

His murder is still unsolved. Some speculate that she just ran away – sensing that, as his closest ‘relation’ she would still be in danger from the Lannister’s and the Frey’s. Others think she either killed or was an accomplice to his murder.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

It was Saturday, and Sansa knew that since it was the week of festivities and especially because of the party the night before, she would be alone in the office. She even had made sure that Baelon Targryen would not make an appearance. – No he was out, catching up with his friends from further up North.

_This is probably the one time of the year where you can be sure no one will disturb you._

And Sansa definitely did not want to be disturbed: after all she had heard yesterday evening, she not only wanted to know more about Bolton, but also about Baelon Targaryen, or more specifically Jon Snow. She had not slept at all last night, reviewing files in the Warehouse, and now she wanted to get even more information before she formed her plan.

There were only a set of security guards in the entrance lobby to greet her. Good, they both knew her, and knew she was one of the partner’s secretaries, meaning they wouldn’t bother her too much.

She’s ‘just here to catch up on some work for Mr Bolton’.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

After going to her desk, and working through several files at her computer, Sansa was tired but content.

She sighed and relaxed in her chair. All this was finally leading somewhere. After being awake for more than 24 hours, Sansa had figured out what Bolton was doing: what had been his plan all along.

She needed to stop him that much was obvious. But as she was deciding how to go about it, she also decided she wouldn’t go to Jacquen with her information.

Someone had always controlled her life in one way or another from Joffrey to Cersei, to Tywin Lannister, to Petyr … even Jacquen controlled her life… well no more!

Even the memories and the treats of her past were controlling her.

Then and there Sansa decided NO MORE! She decided that it was time she took charge of her life… and with that she started coming up with a plan….

This was her chance to get back a hold on her life… Sansa Stark’s life … and she wasn’t going to waste it.

 

There was also the fact that she wanted to know more about Jon Snow’s past, and she could definitely not go to Jacquen about that. Especially not after he had shut her down the last time she had questioned him.

 

Satisfied, and resolved, Sansa turned saved the files she had found onto her hard drive to study in more depth at home, turned off her computer, and went out of the building.

 

She had nearly reached her car when, suddenly, a voice brought her out of her thoughts. – A voice she hadn’t heard for a long time.

“Out of all the places, in all the worlds, who would have thought I would find you here? ... It’s been a long time, Miss Stark.”

 

 


	12. Chapter 10 – Meetings and Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from the last chapter

 

 

SANSA/ LYANNA

 

Tyrion Lannister was here.

Tyrion fucking Lannister was standing not two meters from her.

 

Sansa just stood there looking at him, not believing what her eyes were seeing.

“I must say you look good… very good in the case of Sansa Stark being supposedly dead.”

Upon hearing her name a second time, Sansa snapped out of her trance: “It’s Lyanna Winters now.” She gritted through clenched teeth.

 

After a few moments of Tyrion properly looking at her, he replied: “Well, Miss _Winters_ , your hair looks different- darker, but it’s very nice. But I must say it’s a shame that you wear contacts. Your eyes were so mesmerising. But then I guess it is because they are so memorable that you hide them.”

Not being able to take it any longer, Sansa stepped forward. Her hand was still inside her bang holding her gun, still unsure of what to do next.

“Why are you here Tyrion? … Have you come to kill me?”

Tyrion looked at her in surprise: “Gods no. I didn’t even know you were still alive until about five minutes ago when you came out of the Targaryen Corp building…. I must say out of everything I was expecting of today, seeing you was definitely not one of them.”

Sansa loosen her grip on the fire arm, but still kept her hand in the hand-bag.

“So why are you here?”

“I’m here to see Grif- I mean Aegon and Baelon Targaryen: I met both of them before the Targaryens had officially come back, and I taught both of them at the Citadel for two semesters. I was invited to enjoy the Winter celebrations.”

Sansa studied him for a few more minutes, to try and figure out if he was telling the truth. After a moment, Tyrion, probably sick of waiting, said: “How about we go somewhere else to talk instead of freezing our arses off here?- I am not from the North, and I don’t tend to stay in the freezing cold longer than I have to.”

Sansa looked at him in surprise: “Wait?! So you’re not going to tell anyone about me?... you’re… you’re not going to contact your sister’s handlers?... the ones that are still out of jail that is?” But even as she said those words, she knew how foolish they were: there was no love lost between Cersei and Tyrion. And from what she had heard and read, even Jaime had given up on all possible love – incestuous or not- he had once had for his sister.

“No Sa- Lyanna, I am not going to turn you in to anyone. I am truly sorry for what my family did to you and the rest of your family… if there was any way I could make up for their cruelty, I will do it. If it is helping you keep your name hidden, I will do it.”

Sansa studied him a few minutes more before silently sighing: “Fine, I can’t tonight but can you meet me tomorrow at the northern entrance to Wolfswood? It’s the furthest from the city so you shouldn’t run into anyone.”

“Of course. Early afternoon? Not really a morning person.”

“1400… Oh, and Tyrion?”

“Yes?”

“This doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“I wouldn’t expect it.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

“Remember the time where shit had been thrown at him, and it landed on his face – his hair smelt of it for the rest of the week.”

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh in response. “Yea… that was probably my best week in Kings…”

 

Tyrion, and her had been in the forest for already a good thirty minutes reminiscing old memories. Mainly trying to remember the ones where neither of them were being humiliated or tortured by either Tyrion’s father, sister or nephew.

They continued to talk a while longer when Sansa remembered something from a month back.

“How do you know Podrick Payne?”

“Pod?!” Tyrion looked at her in surprised shock. “How do you know him?”

Sansa’s cheeks went a little pink as she turned away slightly: “I asked first.”

“He used to be my assistant. At the Citadel. He was one of my students during all that hell with you and my family. I met him fresh out of Lannisport Academy, aged seventeen, and he soon became one of my brightest students. During his masters I offered him a job: every professor at the academy chooses a master student as a TA to help him out. He still was mine when I was accused of killing Joffrey. Podrick wanted to help, when I had been arrested, but I wouldn’t let him. I did the only thing I was able to do for him: dissociate him from me as much as possible. Through a friend I was able to send him north, where hopefully he would get a teaching job. – He had always wanted to be a teacher.”

Sansa replied with a small smile: “He is one. I think you’d be proud of him. I can see the better part of you stayed with him, all those years later.”

Tyrion smiled back, looking down at his feet. “Well I’m happy he a got away ok in the end. The innocent don’t always stay that way…”

Sansa looked away guiltily at the statement. She had once been an innocent. She was definitely not one anymore. Probably sensing what she was thinking, Tyrion added, holding her hand in his.

“San, I’m sorry, I wasn’t… gods… I … I don’t even know what to say…my family… they destroyed everything… I tried-“

Sansa looked back at him reassuringly, squeezing his hand in response: “-You tried to save as many as you could Ty … I know. Don’t worry I don’t blame you. Everyone called you the monster, but we all knew who were the really monsters.”

“As I said yesterday: I am sorry for all the horrible things my family did to you and yours family… and I am ready to do anything to make amends for it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong, you actually did something you tried to protect me.”

“Yea…and where did that lead us… my father trying to force me to rape you?”

“But you didn’t… you even helped protect me from being raped by _him”_

Tyrion shifted uncomfortably: “Sansa… did… did Joffrey ever… did he …”

Sansa looked away: “No”

After the quick response, both seemed to agree that the subject was now closed. They sat there in silence for a long time just looking around, enjoying the scenery. Calmness: something that had not existed for either of them in a long time.

 

“WOLF!”

Sansa turned her head to where Tyrion was looking, and couldn’t help but smile and laugh when she saw her fury friend coming towards them.

Tyrion took two steps back, as the white wolf neared them, but Sansa went to greet the friend she hadn’t seen in a while.

“Be careful San…”

“Haha…Don’t worry about him… he won’t hurt you. Well at least while your with me.” She replied as she petted the beast, who was clearly a head or two taller than Tyrion.

After her reassurance, Tyrion slowly stepped closer. In response, the white beast slowly went up to Tyrion and seemed to sniff him. After a few moments the wolf licked his hand.

“You see, he’s just sweet when you let him. I call him Wolf… come on let’s play with him, haven’t seen him in soo long…”

“You mean you actually hang out with this beast?!” Tyrion asked incredulously.

Sansa shrugged back, as she picked up a broken branch from the ground: “Well… why not?... you and I both know he’s not one of the real monsters.”

With that she threw the stick for ‘Wolf’ to go get.

 

They continued to play, and laugh a little while longer before Sansa fell onto Tyrion, after having tripped on something hidden under the snow.

“Are you ok San?”

“Yea… haha… haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” She paused before pushing the top of her body off of Tyrion. Wolf was now standing next to them, wondering why they had stopped, nudging Sansa on her side. Sansa gently pushed the big mutt back.

Turning back to face Tyrion, she then said more seriously: “I was thinking. There _is_ something you could actually help me with.”

“Of course. Just name it.”

Looking back at her a second time he then added: “Oh and by the way, you still haven’t told me how you know Podrick.”

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

BAELON/ JON

 

“Hey where did you go last night? Aeg and I missed you.”

Bae turned his back to his sister, as he continued to button his shirt: “Was just catching up with old friends.”

“Old friends… from the North?”

Bae sighed: “Why are you asking me when you already know the answer?”

“Maybe because a part of me hopes you’ll say ‘no Rhae, I was just hanging out with friends from work’ or something like that.”

Baelon let out a dry chuckle, turning back around, as he put his jacket on: “Rhae I need them… they are a much a part of my life as you are.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that some of the things Dany said yesterday were true. All of it was true to a certain extent. And I, in a way, can’t help but feel… a little … pushed to the side. I’m your sister, but you rarely share anything with me: you’re either with Aeg, or you’re sharing past history with Jon Snow’s friends from the Wall... or you’re being told off by D.” Rhaenys finished with a small smile.

Baelon stood next to her and put his arms around her in a comforting hug.

“Gods Rhae, I do love you, and I would love to share more with you…. In a way I’ve been always jealous of you and Aeg. I mean you guys were always together, I never had that…” He let his hands fall to his sides before he continued. “Well I sort of did with Robb, but we all know how that turned out.”

After a pause he looked at her. “Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. You just might be the best person to talk to about this.”

“Oh?” Rhaenys questioned, intrigued.

“Yea, I could use your advice about something…someone.”

Rhae grinned at her brother: “A woman?”

Baelon smiled shyly back with a sigh: “Yea.”

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

After his talk with his sister, Baelon went to the forest to clear his head. After a few minutes of wondering round, to his surprise and joy, he ran into Ghost. Ever since that night a few months, the ‘night with the blue eyes’, Jon had been able to come across his four-legged friend a few times.

They continued to walk through the trees, when Jon suddenly realised something.

_Lyanna!... I mean Alayne- whatever her name…it could be her!? The blue eyes_!

If Grenn and Pyp’s information was right, it meant that ‘ _Lyanna Winters’_ was actually ‘ _Alayne Stone_ ’: Lysa Aryn’s illegitimate daughter… Lysa _Tully’s_ illegitimate daughter… This would work with the fact that he had seen someone with _Tully_ eyes under the Heart Tree.

_Gods! She’s Robb’s cousin!... Bran and Rickon still have a cousin! …_

Jon’s mind started to race: … _Should I tell them?... Should I tell Edmure?... No… I need to be sure… plus from what Grenn and Pyp were saying her life could be in danger… and by the Gods, old and New, why is she in hiding?_!

Then another thought came to him: _But if she was Tully, why was she under the Heart Tree?... Tullys pray to the New Gods…_

Confused he looked at his silent companion for answers: “So Ghost, you going to tell me more about your other friend?”

White beast just looked at him in silence.

Jon sighed: “Fine… be that way… I see what you’re doing… trying to make me jealous. I guess I deserve it after abandoning you.” He said roughly as he passed his hand through Ghost’s fur.

They continued to walk, with Jon talking to the wolf, and the wolf silently answering back.

 

This continued until Ghost suddenly stopped and pricked his ears.

Jon stopped, more alert, whispering to his friend: “What is it?”

In the guise of an answer, the white wolf, slowly started moving to the right. Jon silently followed behind him, even more vigilant of his surroundings.

 

After a walking another ten minutes, Jon started hearing voices. They continued their approach for a few more moments, before, to Jon’s surprise Ghost ran forward, through the trees to the voices. Jon had been about to yell, running after the wolf when he noticed the two people that were talking.

He quickly hid behind a tree, trying not to be seen, whilst trying to figure out what in the Seven Hells was going on?

 

Ghost had gone to the woman: _Lyanna!- no wait Alayne_. The wolf-dog didn’t scare her, in fact he heard her squeal in delight when the beast approached the two.

_Well this is definitely proof that she’s the mystery person, right?_

Jon then looked to the other person: _What the Fuck?! Tyrion Lannister_?! … _Why is he here? With Lyanna no less_?!

Baelon then quickly remembered Aegon mentioning something about inviting Tyrion to the Winter Festivities. But that didn’t explain the fact that Tyrion knew Lyanna or that he was hanging out with her in the fucking woods!

Unfortunately from where he was, Baelon couldn’t hear what they were saying. What pissed him off even more, was the fact that they two seemed to be laughing, having fun together, and playing with Ghost!

Not only was Tyrion alone with Lyanna, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind the short man!

 

Then Bae saw red: Lyanna had just fallen on top of Tyrion in a somewhat intimate way, and neither of them seemed to mind, or were doing anything to put space between they!– _Why is every guy apart from me able to hold her_?!

Baelon continued to spy on the horrific scene in front of him, all the while making sure he stayed hidden. Thankfully, Ghost didn’t give him away.

Unfortunately, he had only been able to pick up only a few minor words that didn’t make any sense: ‘ _dad’s business’… ‘the shares of the company’… ‘the scars’… ‘a meeting with wrinkle-face’… ‘blond-haired shit’…_

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Baelon walked down the stairs of the mezzanine with Aegon, and Tyrion laughing.

 

It was now Monday, and the two brothers were showing their old tutor around the North Branch’s building. Baelon and Aegon had –officially- first met up with Tyrion yesterday. However, as they approached the Deadfort part of the office, Baelon couldn’t help but remember two afternoons ago when he had spied Tyrion with Lyanna.

After introducing Tyrion to Roose Bolton, Baelon turned to the right, to the face that haunted him: “Tyrion, let me also introduced Mr Bolton’s assistant, Ms Winters.”

He carefully watched the reaction on both their faces when he introduced them to one another: not even a flinch.

_For fuck sake! Are they really going to pretend they don’t know each other?! When they had been rolling around in the snow not two days ago_!

As Aegon continued that talk, mainly between Roose, Tyrion, and the Targaryen brothers, Baelon’s mind went through various thoughts.

_Had Jacquen been right? Had Grenn been right…?_

He knew, he had been repeating it to himself all this time, without really believing it but Lyanna Winters could not be trusted… _I mean the girl is practically throwing herself at everyone but him_! Proof that something was wrong with her.

Clearly she had an ulterior motive if she was throwing herself at Tyrion for all the Gods sake!

Harry- Henry- he kind of understood, _I mean the guy is good-looking, I guess… at least Oberyn seems to think so_ …

… and Payne had that rumour that he could do ‘magic’ in the bedroom…. _Gods, is that true?_ … though Lyanna broke up with him… he couldn’t of been _that_ good… but he had broken up with her … maybe that’s why she had gone out with Harry: to get over Podrick, and his super-sexual powers?…

But why was she now with Tyrion?! _… Isn’t she still with Pretty-boy?_

Was she seriously cheating on Handsome-Harry with Tyrion Lannister?

Well, Baelon acknowledged that Tyrion was a bit of a ladies man as well… I mean he had had sooommmeee hookers, but that had been years ago… he did have a reputation in the sack…

Gods was she just getting with all these men for the sex?... but why not him?!... she had been interested in him at the dance, he was sure of it! The way she had clung to him as they had dance… the way she had shivered ever so slightly in his arms…. And then that near kiss. Damn Mrs Teal for coming when she had!

But then Baelon remembered that Lyanna and Tyrion hadn’t actually kissed, they had just lay in the snow together… could just be friendly?

_Friendly my ass_! Lyanna had been lying on top of him!

He then thought that maybe the two were working together, conspiring something together? But that made even less sense. The police and the Kingsguard had proved that Tyrion Lannister was squeaky clean: no matter how horrible the rest of the family was, Tyrion was nothing like his father. Even after all the trials with the Lannisters, the Targaryens had done their own internal investigation, and had come up with nothing. In any case, Tyrion was his friend! Tyrion had mentored not only him but Aeg as well!

This didn’t make any sense. How did Tyrion know Lyanna, and why were they pretending to not know each other?

 

Suddenly, Bae’s thoughts were broken by someone poking him in the ribs.

“Hum-hum”

Baelon looked up to see four pairs of eyes looking at him: Aegon looked amused, Tyrion as well, Roose’s looked as closed off as ever, and then his eyes finally aligned with Lyanna’s. As their eyes connected he felt a jolt. She seemed between confused, and worried…

He quickly looked back at his brother.

“hum…Sorry, did I miss something?”

Aegon couldn’t help but widen his grin as he replied: “We were talking about my wedding… in a few weeks… in Kings Landing… how you were going to be there… my best man…and then how you would be doing a tour of all the Northern sites… Gods Bae, is it the thought of me marrying, or the thought of you roaming around the whole of the North by yourself that has you all in a trance?”

_Gods how can I forget: going to spend over a month away from Winter Town… away from Lyanna_ …

Baelon straightened himself, and cleared his throat: “Sorry, had a long meeting this morning with Manderly… been meetings with all my partners before going to Kings. Need to make sure I can leave and everything will still be working when I get back.” Turning to Roose, he continued: “Which reminds me, when is our partner meeting?”

Roose looked back at him, looking a little bored: “Tomorrow afternoon sir.”

“Perfect, thank you Bolton. Now, why don’t we let Mr Bolton, and Ms Winters get back to their work, and I’ll show Aegon and Mr Lannister some of our other departments?”

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

“No ! We have been over this. Roose, you can’t just let Steelshanks go to the Deafort Building whilst you stay here each month. Last month he went, so this month it will have to be you! You are the one in charge of the Branch, not Steelshanks.”

“I am aware of that Mr Targaryen, that’s why I think it best to stay here, looking over the overview, whilst Walton verifies the shipping. But if you think that is what’s best, it will be done. Ms Winters, make the necessary changes in the arrangements.”

The meeting had gone on for already two hours, and Baelon was ready for it to end. Not only was Roose getting on his last nerve, but it didn’t help that the room was filled with Lyanna’s scent. Plus, she was wearing a form fitting green dress that, Bae couldn’t help but notice, wasn’t helping in calming certain feelings he had below the belt.

Now the thought of Lyanna going with Bolton to the Deadfort was eating at him. Even if the thought made his skin crawl, Baelon had thought it best that it was Bolton and not Steelshanks that went with her to Deadfort. Even Lyanna had looked a little relieved by the change.

Too tense to talk directly with Lyanna, Baelon continued to talk to Roose: “Great. Oh and Bolton make sure you will also be at the Deadfort the 32nd week of Winter. If all goes to plan, will join you directly there, two weeks after my brother’s wedding.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

SANSA/ LYANNA

 

During the whole of the meeting, Sansa tried not to look at the man sitting in front of Roose Botlon and her. Unfortunately since she actually had to follow what was going on, and what was being said during the meeting, Sansa constantly found herself checking Baelon Targaryen out.

He was looking good.

Who was she kidding he always looked good in a suit. – _He probably looks good out of one as well_ …

 

Nevertheless, when the meeting finally ended, after three hours, Sansa couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and regret. Relief because she could finally leave Baelon Targaryen’s presence… and regret because she was finally leaving Baelon Targaryen’s presence.

 

She still hadn’t been able to forget the almost kiss that had happened the Friday at the dance. Nor was she able to forget what she had overheard later on in the evening. Her off-the-books research, and her two meetings with Tyrion had proved fruitful, but she still wasn’t sure as to Baelon’s character. Tyrion kept on insisting that the man was a good-honourable person. But even though Tyrion was probably the person in the whole of Westeros she had known the longest, she wasn’t going to blindly follow his judgment.

In any case, some of her focus was still directed at Bolton. By order of Jacquen, and for herself.

She had told Jacquen most of what she had heard from Bolton’s talk with Steelshanks at the ball, but not all of it. And from her alone time, and what Tyrion had confirmed, holding some of it back had been a good idea.

_Never show all your cards_ …

 

. . . . . .

 

Later in the evening, Roose Botlon asked Sansa to join him in his office to go over a few points from the meeting. As they were packing up, Roose turned to her:

“Ms Winters?”

She looked at him expectantly. To be honest, after what she had overheard of Bolton’s plan, she had been waiting for this moment since Friday.

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you like your job? Not only working for TC, but for the Deadfort Branch?” – _Bingo_

“I mean, I can see that you don’t have the best rapport with Mr Steelshanks, but apart from him, you seem to fit well on the 44th floor. No?” – _I seem to fit well with all your scheming, you mean_?

“Yes Mr Bolton, I enjoy it very much. To be honest, I much prefer working with you than with Manderly, or Karstark… or Mormont for that matter. Did you have something you wanted to remark about my work sir?”

“Nothing bad, Ms Winters. I just wanted to make sure you were happy with our team. I was thinking our team works well together, and I wanted your opinion on the matter.”

 

_Really Bolton? You really think you can play me as one of your puppets? … Too many people have tried before you… Baelish had tried…where do you think he is now_?

Pushing her thoughts to the back of her head, Sansa gave her boss a small smile, and replied: “Of course Mr Bolton. I work rather well with Mr Tybald, Ben Bones, and of course yourself.”

With that reply, Sansa couldn’t help but notice Roose Bolton’s lips twitch the slightness way upwards, as if he was trying to smile.

 

“That is good to hear. There was actually something else I wanted to talk you about, Ms Winters.”

 


	13. Chapter 11 – The Past and the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Targaryen Wedding Day

SANSA/ LYANNA

 

12 years ago she was what society would have considered ‘royalty’. She wasn’t an actual princess, but the ‘ _Stark’_ name had, for the last 1000 years, commanded respect, authority. They were the direct descendants of Brandon the Builder.

12 years ago the Starks were the unofficial ‘Kings and Queens of the North’.

12 years ago, she was the daughter of General Eddard Stark: the war hero, the liberator of Kings Landing, the best friend of General Robert Baratheon, the man with more connections to the rest of Westeros than any other.

 

12 years ago she would have been in the front row – more specifically, 12 years ago, people were already planning her own wedding to Joffrey Baratheon

12 years ago either the bride or the groom would have been from the Baratheon family

12 years ago the front row to the wedding would have consisted of the Baratheons, the Starks, the Lannisters, and right behind them the Martells, the Tullys, the Aryns, the Tyrells.

 

But things had changed in the last 12 years

 

12 years ago the Lannisters had done what they did best: destroy another important house (30 years ago it had been the Targaryens, this time the Starks). But of course their actions were always hidden in such a way that they were rarely to blame, or at least didn’t seem like the main enemy.

 

But then the Targaryens, like the phoenix rising (or in this case dragon), had come out from the ashes.

Now the front row consisted of the Targaryens, the Martells.

Behind them:

The Tyrells, who were still trying to get front row seats

The last remaining Starks: Bran and Rickon who still represented an important dynasty but who were also seen with a small sense of pity

The last remaining Tully: Edmure Tully, (Brynden Tully having died two years prior)

The ‘ _good’_ Lannister: Tyrion, the only acknowledged Lannister (Marcella and Tommen were left alone for their innocence in what their parents, and grandfather had done, but they were still disregarded)

The last remaining Baratheon, the ‘ _righteous’_ one: Stannis Baratheon, who like Tyrion had been some-what pardoned on his past but not to the extent of being allowed a front row.

 

She had once been Northern Royalty, sitting in the front row.

Now she hadn’t even been invited to the Wedding of the Decade.

 

The old Sansa would have been outraged.

The new one actually revelled at the fact she had been left behind.

 

Baelon Targaryen had gone to Kings Landing for his brother’s wedding. With him, his ‘official’ security team had also gone. Which meant not only did Lyanna have a break, but so did Mercedene.

It also meant that Sansa Stark was unsupervised.

 

If she had been even invited to the wedding, or if she even watched it at home on her TV set, she might have noted like many others how much Baelon Targaryen stood out. Placed at the front of the altar next to his older brother, with the rest of his family, it showed more than ever how he was different to the rest of them: Dany and Aegon looked the most Targaryen. Rhaenys had mainly her mother’s Martell but even she had paler skin, and the unique Targaryen violet eyes.

Baelon Targaryen stood out like a sore thumb: he barely had any discernible Targaryen features which brought more the fact that he was a ‘bastard’. But his square jaw and more northern features didn’t stop all single – and some not-so-single – ladies from eyeing the only Targaryen left whilst his brother was getting married.

 

However, Sansa Stark didn’t notice any of this because instead of watching the most important wedding of the last decani, she was …

 

_‘Oh sinnerman, where you gonna run to?_

_Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?_

_Where you gonna run to?_

_All along dem day_

_Well I run to the rock, please hide me_

_I run to the rock, please hide me_

_I run to the rock, please hide me, lord_ ….’

 

Rotate three degrees right - then rotate ten degrees to the left - then just one back to the left – _click_

_YES! Finally!_

As Sansa turned off the music playing in her headphones, she couldn’t help but smile. For the last 30 minutes she had been staring at the vault, slowly, and patiently unlocking each one of the four dials. - The Bolton safe had been much easier to crack.

After a small breath of air, she took the main handle of the large safe and turned it: the door slowly but surely opened to her.

She looked inside, and studied the contents within. Most of it was jewellery, a few gold bars, and the rest seemed to be files and important documents.

 

The Targaryen’s were back to being so influential that the wedding day was a made a public holiday – it was Saturday so most weren’t really affected by this but it made it the perfect day for Sansa to do what she had been planning for the last two weeks:

Most of the country was busy following the ‘Wedding of the Decade’, her whole security team was in Kings Landing looking over the Targaryens.

The Targaryen smartly did not put ‘all their eggs in one basket’. In the last two weeks she had figured out where each of their main vaults were, and what was in each one.

This is why, instead of watching Aegon Targaryen's wedding to Myria Jordayne, Sansa Stark was in Strongsong in the middle of breaking into a Targaryen safe.

Unlike most prominent families, the Targaryen’s had been thoughtful enough to not keep their most valued items in the biggest cities: these were the most obvious locations. Instead they had divided their wealth and important documents within several vaults across Westeros and Essos, in less significant cities.

 

She flicked through the various papers, until she found the report she had been looking for:

_‘Ministry of Defense Report – Jon Snow [Report second Copy, TARGARYEN FILES COPY]’_

 

Her hands shook as she opened it, not being sure what she would find. Straight from the first line her breath was caught in her throat:

‘ _Jon Snow, 998th Commander of the Night's Watch – RETIRED’_

 

_-WHAT THE FUCK!!! …COMMANDER OF THE NIGHT’S WATCH!?!_

Her heart beating faster, she continued to read:

 

‘ _Jon Snow, 1998th Commander of the Night's Watch – **RETIRED**_

 _The Seven Kingdoms' Secret Service_  
C/O Ministry of Defense  
Red Keep Headquarters  
Kings Landing, Westeros

_Other Known Identities: Baelon Targeryen – Refer to Section 13_

_Graduated as a Second Lieutenant at Winterfell Academy, 2291 till 2298 AC - Refer to Section 3 for more details for his time in Winterfell Academy_

_Second Lieutenant at Castle Black, Headquarters of the Nights Watch, 2298 till 300 AC_

_Lieutenant at Castle Black, Headquarters of the Nights Watch, 2300 till 301 AC_

_Lieutenant Commander at Shadow Tower, West Command Centre of the Nights Watch, 2301 till 2303 AC_

_Lieutenant Commander at Castle Black, Headquarters of the Nights Watch, 2303 till 2305 AC_

_998th Commander of the Night's Watch, Headquarters of the Nights Watch, 2305 till 2306 AC - FORCED RETIREMENT_

_Refer to Sections 4 to 12 for more details for his time in the Nights Watch’_

 

Her fingers shaking, Sansa tuned a few pages, reaching Section 4:

 

‘ _Summary:_

_\- Commander, The Seven Kingdoms' Secret Service, Retired_

_\- Crow was official Service code name_

_\- Outstanding record of international service_

_\- Expert in small arms, cyphers, explosives, computers_

_\- Fluent in Common Tongue, High Valyrian, Low Valyrian, Dornish, the Trade Tongue_

_\- Declined offers of Knighthood and becoming a Kingsguard_

_…_ ’

 

As she continued reading the file and taking copies of whole of the report, she couldn’t believe this whole hidden life Baelon had. – _Who would have guessed his past was so… clandestine?... violent?..._

No wonder the Targaryen’s had been hiding the identity of ‘Jon Snow’ from the public: these were top-secret files! He had been part of the Seven Kingdoms' Secret Service for crying out loud!

 

Daenerys Targaryen was right: Baelon Targeryen, aka Jon Snow, was dangerous.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON/ BAELON

 

Even being a man Baelon acknowledged that the procession was beautiful. His aunt, and his sister both shed a tear, and his brother looked like the proper Targaryen prince.

Even though he was really happy for his brother, he could help but to hold his wedding against Aegon. Not only was Baelon now the only single Targaryen left but his brother had done something unprecedented for someone of ‘noble lineage’: he had married a ‘commoner’. Now, because of this, not only were women clamouring to get his attention even more but they all thought even more that they not only could be his potential mistress but even his wife!

 _Wife_.

 _By all the Gods_ – 8 years ago he had been ready to marry Ygritte. At the time she had been the only he had ever slept with, his brothers in arms had made fun of him, saying not to confuse ‘a good shag’ with ‘love’, but he knew that he had been in love with her, ready to commit.

Now he could think of no one who could potentially fit the bill – the closest in terms of feelings that would be acknowledged was the lovely Lyanna Winters, but several things stood in the way of that ever happening:

… the fact that she wasn’t even Lyanna Winters

… that she was potentially linked to Roose Bolton

… that she was dating another man

… that she was his employee

… that he hadn't even kissed her yet

Yep all things pointed to the fact that she definitely would not make a good potential bride.

 

Trying to get the beautiful woman’s face out of his head, he forced himself to look around the Sept.

 

Fortunately and unfortunately for Baelon, he had quite a lot of friends here – Fortunately because he hadn’t seen several of them in a while, and this was the best time to catch up with them. Unfortunate was the fact that a lot of them couldn’t stand each other.

Most people didn’t like Tyrion because of his parentage or because he was a dwarf – fortunately both Aegon and Oberyn got on with the man (which was quite an accomplishment as the Red Viper was known to loath everything related to the late Tywin Lannister).

Then there was Stannis Baratheon– not many people south of the Wall liked the man, though some at least respected him, but most felt insulted that he was put in a higher honour to them given his past with the Targaryen family (but then he was actually technically Dany’s first cousin, thus the groom’s uncle, … and years ago when Dany had come out of exile, he had willing stepped aside from his ‘righteous’ place in the ‘war’, and had actually helped in the transition.

A few free-folk and Dothraki had also been invited to the wedding, to Baelon’s delight. However, to most these were savages, and were looked at both nervously and sceptically. In all the great houses, only the Martells, and Loras and Margery Tyrell looked with another kind of interest on the ‘savages from the north’ and the ‘savages from across the sea’.

 

At the far right of the Sept, he noticed the third of his security detail: _Harry Hardyng_ , aka Henry Waynwood. Seeing the other man, Baelon couldn’t help but think once more of Lyanna. Baelon fisted his hand at his side as images of Harry Hardyng and Lyanna together popped into his mind…. _Fucking bastard_

However, looking more closely at the man, Baelon was surprised to note that Harry had a strange expression on his face. He looked … pissed off?

Unsure of what to make of it, he forced himself to concentrate on his brother, who was now walking down the aisle with his new bride.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

Oberyn, taking another gulp of Dornish wine, smiled: “By the Gods I love weddings… have you seen the bridesmaids?”

Tyrion chuckled next to him: “Do weddings not put pressure on you from your lovely paramour?”

“Marry Ellaria?... Gods no. What would be the point? ... For the beauties of this world to think I am unavailable? … “

Both Tyrion and Baelon laughed. Baelon chuckled: “Yes, that would be tragic.”

 

Tyrion turned to Baelon: “And are you going to follow your uncle’s footsteps to eternal bachelorhood?”

Lyanna’s face popped into his mind once more. With a dry caught Baelon answered: “Maybe… seems the better option.”

“Why from the look on your face do I have trouble believing you? … Is there a certain lady already in mind?”

Wanting to change the subject away from his love-life, or the lack of, he countered the previous question: “How about you Tyrion: also an eternal bachelor?”

After a small pause, looking afar, Tyrion answered: “I’m actually married.”

Oberyn spit out his wine, whilst Baelon just looked at his small friend in disbelief. “W-What?...you have a wife?!... Since when?”

“For the last 9 years…”

 

Oberyn who had finally managed to control his chocking, spoke up: “Wow, wow… you need to explain everything, NOW!”

Taking a small breath, Tyrion explained: “9 years ago, my father deciding it was time that I marry, forced it …. Unfortunately, its law abiding.”

“So… so you are married but you don’t want to be?.. Why not get a divorce … or an annulment?”

“It’s more complicated than that: I would probably get one if I could find her first…”

Bae looked at him, even more confused: “Sorry?”

Tyrion sighed: “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything…my wife is Sansa Stark… or technically Sansa Lannister. According to the law, all Higher Born can’t get a divorce or annulment without both parties present… or can they say she is dead as there is no body… so I will probably be a ‘happily’ married man for the rest of my life…”

Baelon looked at him in shock: “You’re married to Robb Stark’s sister?…”

While Oberyn chuckled: “Tyrion Lannister, the man who misplaced his bride…I … I don’t even know where to beginning….”

 

Still in shock, Bae barely heard his phone beeping. Looking at the devise he saw a first message from Grenn:

**_‘Hey – saw the wedding on TV, congrats to ur bro… don’t get too drunk with all those bridesmds, you wouldn’t want to wake up tmr morning married as well. ;)_ **

**_Anyway just sent you a file – weekly update: surveillance pictures from this week of Bolton, Steelshanks and Miss Winters’_ **

 

Baelon clicked on the link.

 

He first looked at pictures of Bolton, or Bolton with Steelshanks first in Winter Town, then some in Deadfort with Bolton’s bastard.

The second set of photos were of Lyanna Winters, in Winter Town mainly: going to the park, the market, the woods, one going into some rundown warehouse…

However it was the last two that caught his eye: Lyanna in the back of some not well lit bar with Podrick Payne. In both pictures, both seemed very close and cosy. - Baelon’s grip on his phone tightened.

As Baelon continued to look at the photos, he remembered Harry earlier – now it made sense. She might be an undercover mission for him, but for her this was supposed to be real, Lyanna was actually seeing her ex behind her current boyfriend’s back.

 

And with a woman like Lyanna, no wonder Harry was more than a little pissed off. Baelon wanted to run back to Winter Town and grab her out of Podrick Payne’s arms and into his, making her forget all about Harry Hardygn or Podrick Payne!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Note: song Sansa is listening to during her break-in is Sinnerman, by Nina Simone)


	14. Chapter 12 – Build ups and Breakings

 

SANSA/ LYANNA

_Scene two days before the Targaryen Wedding – Late in the evening at Lyanna’s house_

 

“I still can’t believe it”

“You and me both Pod…”

Podrick looked at her in a mix of surprise and worry, still not sure what to make of the situation.

“When I got home to have Tyrion waiting for me… I never expected … this… the crazy story he told me… the crazy story you confirmed…”

After a long pause, he looked straight at her: “I mean… to a certain extent it makes sense… how you would always close off… never talk about your past… but Lya-I mean Sa-…

“-Lyanna is fine… would actually be better, just in case ...” Sansa got closer to him, and held his hand, trying to reassure Podrick.

“Listen Podrick, I never meant for you to get involved but once Tyrion found me again… we knew we couldn’t do this just the two of us… but if this is too much for you, its fine. I don’t want t-

Grabbing her hands, being comforting, Podrick interrupted her: “-Lyanna, I will help you… I will help Tyrion and you both. I’ve waited over ten years to make up for all the things Tyrion did for me. And you, well, I could always sense about you… I’m glad you realised that you couldn’t do everything alone.” He added with a small smile.

She hugged him, held him close, whilst whispering in his ear: “Thank you Pod. Thank you so much.”

After going more into her past, Sansa explained further to Podrick what she had found about Roose Bolton, about Baelon, … how she would be going to Strongsong the day of the Targaryen wedding, whilst Tyrion would be going to Kings Landing… and Tyrion and her plan for the upcoming weeks.

 

. . . . . . . .

_Four days after the Targaryen Wedding – late afternoon_

 

“Well looky what we have here… this is a nice surprise Miss Winters. Anything I can help you with?”

Sansa internally shivered as she passed Ramsay into the entrance of the house.

 

 _Just breathe_ …

 

“Thank you Mr Ramsay, but-t no. Your father sent me here to pick up a few things … for … for his meeting…” Sansa stuttered, not fully looking into his eyes.

 _That’s right play the dutiful, sweet, innocent secretary_ … _that’s how he likes them… that’s how he sees you… if only I could show you what I could really do Ramsay Snow_ …

He shifted a tiny bit towards her. If she hadn’t been paying attention to his whole person she would have missed it.

With a sweet smile, that didn’t fit his face, the bastard replied: “Well, if you change your mind… please, do not hesitate.”

“Well… well there is o-one thing ...”

“Yes?” he grinned eagerly.

“I actually never been to Mr Bolton’s home office, wo-would you mind-“

“-I am at your service.” he replied before she could finish, taking her hand a little too tightly into his larger one, and leading her down the long corridor.

 

Of course Sansa actually already knew every inch of the place: she had staked out it enough times with Harry, and had looked at the plans enough times, and lets not forget that time when she broke into their vault. In any case, she also knew the _real_ reason why she was here:

Less than an hour ago, Roose Bolton had called requesting files that he needed her to send him files for his meeting the next day with Mr Targaryen. – The real reason was that he was going to call again and…

“Here we are” Ramsay said, opening and leading her through a heavy oak doors.

 

After brining her to the desk and the two large filing cabnets, Ramsay thankfully left. But then Sansa supposed it was all part of the plan. In the next few minutes the bastard would message his father saying she was here, getting the files, and then Roose would call.

With a sigh, she started opening the cabinets that were not locked, trying to find the requested files. Finally after a few minutes, the phone on the desk rang – _there it was: the call._

Without hesitating, she picked it up, being the perfect secretary.

“Good Evening, Mr Bolton’s home office.”

“ _Miss Lyanna, it’s me Roose_ ” – _There it is_.

That was the first time he had called her by her first name, or called himself by his first name to her. He had an audience on the other side, and if Sansa had to bet she would say it was Baelon Targaryen.

“Oh, sir… Good evening. I’m just here to pick up the files you requested.”

“ _Yes, Miss Lyanna, that’s why I was calling. Mr Targaryen and I were talking, and there are a few more files that are needed.”_

“Of course…”

Sansa wrote down and started hunting down the extra files, as Roose Bolton gave her more instructions. She was so into her role, into her task that she forgot the next thing Bolton had secretly planned…

The voice behind her nearly made her drop the files in her:

“Lyanna, here is the drink you ordered.” Ramsay said, re-entering the room, and bringing to her a glass of water.

Sansa pulled herself together as she placed the files on the desk and took the glass.

“Than-thank you Mr Ramsay.” She stammered.

 

A mid growl- grunt was heard over the phone, before changing into a rough cough – There it was: Sansa was pretty sure the noise had come from Baelon.

 

“ _One more thing Miss Lyanna… I‘m sorry that this is very last minute but you’ll have to actually take the Red Eye tonight, to be at the Dreadfort Branch tomorrow.”_

_WHAT!?_

– Sansa nearly shocked on her tongue. This was new. When she had eaves dropped on Mr Bolton’s conversation with Walton Steelshanks, they had talked about using her as way to make sure Baelon Targaryen would be distracted as much as possible in the next several weeks, but they hadn’t said anything about her actually joining them on Mr Targaryen’s North Branches Tour!

“J-join you?” she asked, no longer really acting.

_“Yes, unfortunately Mr Steelshanks, has to head back to Winter Town, so you will have to replace him through the next meetings. I hope that’s not a problem?”_

Sansa trying to put her sweetest voice: “Of course not Mr Bolton, I will be packed and ready to go by the last train tonight.”

 

After she hung up, Sansa couldn’t help but shiver.

 _Two weeks going through the North with Baelon Targaryen… fuuccckkk… the holiday is officially over_.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

JON/ BAELON

_Same day later, in the evening – The Weeping Waters Hotel, near the Dreadfort Headquarters_

 

 _For Fuck Sake_!

 

Baelon slammed the tumbler against his desk.

 

Soon after his meeting with Roose Boolton - and _that_ phone call - Baelon had turned back to his room, to take a long shower, and have …two…three glasses of brandy.

He looked once more at the pictures in front of him, the pictures he had already watched several times since his brother’s wedding earlier that week: Podrick and Lyanna in her house, her holding his hand, them in each other’s arms, Podrick giving Lyanna a kiss on the cheek… the pictures continued.

She had met up with Podrick Payne earlier in the week, and now she was at Roose Bolton’s house, with Ramsay Snow! And he had called her ‘ _Lyanna_ ’… even Roose-fucking-Bolton had called her ‘ _Miss Lyanna_ ’!

… _and now she’s coming here_

 

Baelon wasn’t sure what to feel about that. About her coming on the trip … coming to him.

 

His trip through the North had started right after Aegon had left on his honeymoon. This morning, he had arrived at the Dreadfort Office, and had meetings with Bolton all day…. And now she was going to join them…

After one last swig at his drink, Baelon stood up, and got dressed, before heading down to the hotel’s bar.

The fact that he knew she was going to be here tomorrow – Baelon knew that he had to find some kind of ‘distraction’ for the night.

\- - - - - - - - - -

_The next day_

SANSA/ LYANNA

 

The cool spring air blew Sansa’s hair around, from the hotel’s balcony. She looked up at the sky, thinking about the last month- her month break from _him_.

She sighed.

Then, call it intuition or instinct, something made her turn around and look up at the French doors on the second floor balcony that overlooked the garden where Sansa was standing.

From behind the glass, she saw him.

He stood looking down at Sansa with a white towel wrapped around his waist. She had often imagined what he might look like under his suits, but even her wildest dreams couldn’t have conjured up what was on display before her.

His messy black hair was still wet. His body looked like it had been sizzled into perfection. – It seemed that even though he wasn’t ‘ _secret special opps Commander Jon Snow’_ anymore he still took care of his body.

Her gaze ran up the length of his body, stopping at two dark orbs.

Even from here, she could see and feel the piercing grey of his eyes.

His inked body looked bigger, even more built than before.

He lifted a cigarette to his mouth and even amidst the shock of seeing him, disappointment set in that he was smoking.

Bae blew out the smoke as his eyes stayed fixed on Sansa’s. He wasn’t smiling. He just looked at her intently. His powerful stare alone had put all of Sansa’s senses on high alert: her head was pounding, her ears were beating, her mouth was watering, her nipples were hard, her hands were trembling, her knees were shaking, and her heart...

But before Sansa had any time to process any of this, a woman with blonde hair came up from behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

 

. . . . .

 

Soon after the _lovely_ scene, Sansa had headed back inside the hotel to find her room and get properly settled in.

Right before noon there was a knock at her door. When she went to open it, it was to find Roose Bolton on the other side.

“Miss Winters, I’m glad to see you arrived ok. I was wondering if you would accompany me for lunch. So we could discuss the files, and the upcoming meetings.”

With a smile, Sansa responded dutifully: “Of course, let me just grab my push and jacket.”

As they took the elevator, and arrived at the lobby, Sansa could help but wonder if coming to her room, and then the lunch was just another show to get under Baelon’s skin.

 

\- - - - - - - - -

JON/ BAELON

 

Quickly after spying on Lyanna from his window, Baelon had been able to quick to blonde out of his room, feelings of guilt creeping within him.

He had gotten dressed and had met up with Bolton and the others for the morning meeting.

Druing the meeting, he had been glad when others had noticed the lack of the presence of Lyanna, and someone had asked what he had been wondering during the whole of the meeting: where was Miss Winters. Roose Bolton had nonchalantly said that he had let her unpack, and rest a bit before the afternoon meetings.

Unfortunately for the rest of the meeting, his mind still wavered more than he would have liked to Lyanna, and the scene that had unravelled this morning:

When he had woken up, Baelon had been on edge. The girl last night had been fun, but had failed to make him forget about Lyanna-fucking-Winters, or Alayne Stone. – _Whatever the fuck her name is._

The blonde and him had taken a shower together, but even that hadn’t done anything to pacify his nerves: he was going to see _her_ today.

Luckily, he had picked up a pack of cigarettes at the bar the night before. He had smoked after Robb had died. His last cigarette had been a month or so after Ygritte’s death. For some reason, he had needed one last night. And again this morning: it felt like the only thing holding Baelon together at that moment.

As Baelon had lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply, he had walked over to the French doors that overlooked the hotel’s first floor entrance balcony. The sky was overcast.

Looking down had been a colossal mistake.

He had tightened his fists, in a fighting response to the fact that his heart had begun to beat so rapidly. She had been there: Lyanna’s back was turned. She was staring out.

“Lyanna,” He had whispered, and as if she had heard him, she turned around. Suddenly, a tidal wave of emotions that Baelon had continually tried to bury came flooding out.

He hadn’t been prepared to see her face. He hadn't seen her face in over a month.

Taking another long drag, Baelon had become angry. With one look into her eyes, he had started to think of everything once more: Roose Bolton, Robb’s death, the facelesses following him everywhere, Harry Hardyng, the jealousy and crushing disappointment of seeing every man but him with her, the twitch of his traitorous cock.

It had felt like she could see right through him in that moment and he hadn’t liked it. They had just stayed looking at each other for probably an entire minute. Her previously dumbfounded expression had darkened as soon as he had felt the blonde’s hands wrap around him.

Instinctively, Baelon had turned around and moved back, pushing the blonde away from the window.

Whilst remembering the scene Baelon wondered why he had done that. Maybe he had been trying to protect Lyanna’s feelings in that moment but why?

_What the fuck did she expect me to do, sit around and pine for her alone while she hooked up with her boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend, her boss…?_

 

Baelon was so into his thoughts that it took him a few seconds to realise the others were standing up and heading to the door: the meeting had concluded for lunch.

Looking around, he couldn’t help but feel more frustrated when he noticed that Roose Bolton had already run off, probably to his sweet lovely secretary.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The next few days had been a mix of satisfaction: they were finally getting somewhere in their meetings and frustration: always seeing Lyanna, and most of the time Lyanna with Roose Bolton.

 

Thankfully At the end of their last meeting at the Dreadfort Branch, Bolton had had an emergency, and had left Lyanna Winters alone. Baelon had been forced to go speak with Royce Redarm and Wyman Manderly, but as soon as he had been done with the foolish man and the fat man, he had searched for her.

He found her in one of the offices at the Dreadfort’s top floor.

He was pleased to note that she was so into her work, that she didn’t notice him come in.

“Miss Winters, still working?”

He supressed a smile when she jumped.

“Mr Targaryen! I didn’t realise anyone else was still in.”

“I was just heading out, but so should you.”

She flushed as Lyanna replied: “I have a few more things to do, from the notes of the meeting.”

Baelon, sick of her excuses to avoid him – because he was sure that she had been avoiding him these last few days- insisted: “Ms Winters, I am sure whatever you are working can wait till tomorrow-“

“-but-“ Feeling she was going to give some lame excuse, Baelon insisted: “Miss Winters as the Head of the Northern Branch, as your superior, I must insist that you stop, and take a break. In any case, it is nearly dinner time, and since Mr Bolton isn’t here to entertain you, I am inviting you to dinner with me.”

“but-“

“-I insist. In any case, it could give you an excuse to continue to work, having dinner with your boss. I promise I will listen to all your possible suggessions, if you want to talk of work over dinner.” He said with a chuckle, really hoping that she would not be talking about work.

 

. . . . . . . .

 

Dinner had been great. Thankfully Lyanna hadn’t talked much about work, before they had talked about more interesting things.

They had ended up sharing a bottle of wine, and sharing stories about Winter Town, and what they had been up to the last month.

 

To Baelon’s delight they were now at the hotel bar, having a drink, talking about his brother’s wedding.

“… haha …god that must have been one of a bachelor party.”

Baelon chuckled as he remembered the story he had just told her, about the bachelor party, he and Oberyn had prepared for Aegon.

“Haha … yea… I’d say never invite Oberyn Martell to a bachelor party…hopefully the new Mrs Targaryen will never know what Aegon did on his last night being a bachelor…”

After a chuckle and a pause, Lyanna grabbed her purse, and started to stand up.

“Thank you very much for this lovely evening Mr Targaryen, but I think its time for me to head to my bed.” - _I'd rather you end up in my bed_

As Baelon stood up from his chair, he felt the alcohol running through his system. Maybe that third glass hadn’t been the greatest idea. He felt Lyanna’s body swayed a bit into his. Clearly he wasn’t the only one feeling a little tipsy.

“Let me walk you to your door. What kind of boss would I be if I didn’t make sure my employees didn’t get home safely.” He said with a smile.

Thinking she was going to rebuff him, Baelon was pleasantly surprised when Lyanna replied: “Thank you. That would be very kind of you.”

 

They walked to the elevators in silence. Occasionally, Baelon would get a whiff of her perfume, which didn’t help his ever-twitching crotch, but he soon found it worse within the close confines of the elevator box.

Being stuck in the small space with her, Baelon started imagining pushing her against the wall and kissing her, taking her arms, placing them over…

“haha, we both forgot to press one of the buttons…four floor please.” Lyanna’s soft voice broke his fantasy from continuing.

 

After pressing the button, he looked back at her. She was staring at him. The air in the space thickened. The images that had been in his mind moments ago returned, as they continued to look at each other.

Baelon had been about to take a step towards her, when the elevator stopped and dinged.

 

They had reached the four floor.

As they walked down the long corridor, it seemed that even though they had more space to breathe, both were still feeling the electricity from the elevator.

 

When they reach her door, Lyanna dug into her bag, getting her room key. She fidgeted it whilst trying not to look directly at him, she started to speak hesitantly:

“Well… umm… thank you for… a lovely…”

But Baelon wasn’t ready to let her go. Forgetting everything else, he stepped forward, and took her into his arms, his lips close to hers. He was pleased that she didn’t push him away. Encouraged, he spoke up, over her soft mummers, the need to kiss her was overwhelming. “Let me kiss you,” Baelon sighed.

She continued to speak over his lips, her breathing laboured. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. I want that so badly right now. But I just—”

Baelon didn’t wait for her to finish. He took what he wanted. What he had wanted, what he had needed for the last seven months. – he couldn’t take it anymore, he didn’t care that she wasn’t Lyanna Winters, he didn’t care that she might be working for Bolton, for now he wanted to forget everything, forget himself in her… his heaven... his hell… his siren …

Lyanna moaned into his mouth when his lips covered hers. He planted each of his hands on either side of her face. Baelon didn’t know if it was the testosterone or if the past several weeks were just major foreplay, but he felt completely out of control. The noises coming from the back of Lyanna’s throat made him even hungrier for her, and he caught them with his breath.

At one point, she rubbed her tongue gently around the cut on his lip as he closed his eyes. Then, his body took over and started to kiss her harder, more demanding. Baelon pushed his body into hers and pressing his erection against her. He didn’t care about any of the consequences in that moment. Baelon just knew he never wanted this to stop.

“Let me take you to bed Lyanna,” he whispered hungrily.

She pulled away from him suddenly, looking stunned. “What did you just say?”

“We both want to… we’ve wanted to for months, there’s no point in denying it.” He murmured hungrily, nuzzling her neck, trying to make his point.

Her eyes widened, almost as if she had woken up from a dream. “Fuck. No...no. You need to understand something, Ba-Mr Targaryen that is never going to happen.”

As she spoke the final words, she pushed herself away from his arms, and quickly opened her door, and closing it behind her, leaving Baelon alone in the corridor, feeling empty, confused, and more hard than he had ever been in his life.

_What. The. Fuck._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, though it was time to give a bit of what a few have been waiting for :)


	15. Chapter 13 – Frustrations

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

“Been having a fun time without me?”

 

Sansa was still feeling the memory of Baelon’s lips on hers, his body against hers that she hadn’t noticed the presence of someone else in her room, even moments after she had run away from Baelon’s arms and shut the door in his face.

She jumped as she recognised Harry’s not-so-happy voice.

“For all the Gods Harry! What the fuck?!”

“You have been avoiding me.” He said as he stood up from the edge of the bed. Looking a little saddened, but mainly annoyed, Harry continued: “Gods Mercee: I know you didn’t ask to be assigned to this ‘relationship’ but you could actually act like you want to be with me! Do you know how many women have made a pass at me, in and out of the office…. but nooo, I stay with my ‘girlfriend’ who wants nothing to do with me… as soon as I leave she’s running off back to her ex!”

Sansa looked at him confused: “What?... What are you talking about?”

Becoming even more annoyed at her response, he said: “Really Mercee? Play the confusion card?! Podrick! I know you two met up whilst I was in Kings Landing with the rest of the team… Couldn’t even wait a few days could you… and now you have been here a nearly a week, and you have not come once to see me-“

A little frustrated by his jealously, Sansa retorted: “I have been in meetings all week-“

“-yes and many dinners with Roose Bolton. I’m supposed to be your boyfriend Mercee! Maybe you should start acting like we’re a couple?”

“Harry, my main mission has always been to keep an eye on Bolton. Jaquen has been happy with my progress, and hasn’t said anything negative about my spending more time with him; he has actually encouraged it. Harry: we are both professionals. We both have a mission yours is to play bodyguard, mine is to follow and gather information. Now stop acting like a jealous boyfriend, and remember your job!”

“Yea – it’s all about the job with you” Moving closer, Harry looked into her eyes. “So tell me Mercee: was shaking up with Podrik Payne, whilst you are supposed to be with me, part of the job?” With a snort he added: “Well at least its Podrick and not the dragon pretty boy… how that guy keeps on eye-fucking you I’m surprised you hav-“

His rant was suddenly interrupted an insistent knock at the door.

_Shit!... No please don’t be HIM…._

 

Harry looked from Sansa to the door and back to Sansa. His eyebrows frowned: “You expecting someone?”

Sansa put on her most innocent face – the one Petyr had taught her that she had perfected over the years: “No… I have no clue who that could be. Did you order any room service?”

As he frowned more, he replied negative, before reaching the door, and opening it.

_Oh Great_!

On the other side was Baelon Targaryen, looking between angry and confused…. and, Sansa couldn’t help but notice, frustrated.

 

Before Baelon was able to get over the initial shock of Harry opening the door to him and not Sansa, she decided to break the silence.

“Mr Targaryen? … What could i-we do for you?”

 

Seeming to try and recuperate from the scene in front of him, Baelon straighten himself, and coughed clearing his throat:

“Miss Winters… Mr Waynwood , … I- I wanted to make sure with Miss Winters that the meeting tomorrow morning was still happening, even though Mr Botlon won’t be able to make it?”

“Of course sir. Both Mr Redarm and I will be there.” She replied with the face of a model employee, as if he hadn’t had his tongue down her throat 5 minutes ago.

 

. . . . . . .

 

The next day, during the morning meeting, Baelon Targaryen had been in a foul mood, and had grumble at both Royce Redarm and her.

After the meeting, the whole of the TC team had taken the train to the next destination: White Harbor. The journey had been uncomfortable to say the least. Sansa had sat next to Harry, since Bolton wasn’t with them. Even if they had cleared some air the night before, Sansa could feel that he was still angry and jealous, being short with her as she tried to play the role of the loving girlfriend.

It didn’t help that during most of the train ride, she could feel Baelon’s eyes on her from across the carriage. Every time Harry or her would shift in their seat, or one would touch the other in some manner or another, Sansa could feel the head of the Northern Branch sending dangers at the both of them.

 

At least for the next few days the only interaction Sansa had with Baelon Targaryen had with her was during meetings, and he would rarely speak to her directly.

 

On the Saturday, the team had been given the day off, so Harry and Sansa had gone to do ‘couple’s stuff’, which actually meant that they had gone to find somewhere to train; away from people potentially spying on them.

Harry was still a bit annoyed with her but Sansa was happy to note he had calmed down from earlier in the week.

 

They were both resting on the side of the training mat, panting, after a session of wrestling, when Harry spoke up:

“Why Podrick?”

Sansa looked back at him, a little frustrated in the direction of the conversation: “Excuse me?”

He looked back at her, with a somewhat sad expression: “Come on Mercee. You know I’ve liked you since we’ve started the program together, but you never gave me the time of day. It didn’t bother me too much since it seemed no one took your fancy. I mean even when you met Oberyn Martell and the two Targaryen boys you didn’t even flinch…. But now, when you actually supposed to be in a relationship with me, you run off to your ex- Lyanna’s ex? … I had honestly thought it was only the job between you and him before…”

Sansa sighed before she replied: “Harry… we’ve already been through this: you only really want me because I’ve said ‘no’ to you. If I had said ‘yes’ you would already be on someone else, and our friendship would have suffered for just a quick-meaningless shag.”

Taking his hand into hers, Sansa continued: “I’m sorry Harry, I care about you and our friendship too much to become just one of your hook ups.”

With a weak smile, he replied: “I think you underestimate your effect on men Mercedene.”

Before Sansa could reply her phone beeped. Looking at it, she noticed that it was a message from Roose Bolton. After reading it, she turned back to Harry, she said: “We should probably head back. Most of the team are having some kind of work drinks. Bolton has arrived at the hotel and has joined the others. Jacquen will wonder why we’re not there.”

Sighing, Harry stood up: “fine, let’s go.”

Standing up herself, Sansa once more squeezed his hand: “I meant what I said H: I do care about you, you’re one of my closest friends. I just don’t care about you in … _that_ way.”

“Curse of my life, all the girls throw themselves at me except for the one that I want.”

“What about Myranda Royce? Don’t tell me there weren’t sparks between you two?”

“Myranda? That was ages ago Mercee, when we were in the Eyrie.”

“Yea but don’t pretend she didn’t have an effect on you…”

 

. . . . . . .

 

When they arrived back to the hotel an hour later, both Harry and Sansa quickly went to their room to change before joining everyone else.

 

Roose Bolton noticed her entrance first: “Ah miss Winters, you are just in time.”

His small smile disappeared when he saw Harry behind her. “Mr Waynwood.”

Sansa smiled at him warmly, not letting the façade break even for a second. Whilst moving closer to him she could feel Baelon’s eyes on her: “Mr Bolton. I hope we have not missed anything important.”

He replied with the most non-Bolton smile, in pure fake politeness that only someone who knew the extent of who Roose Bolton was would know was an utter a charade: “No, no – you have perfect timing, as usual.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Baelon stiffen, as Harry placed a possessive arm around her.

Roose Bolton continued with his charade: “I would like you to meet Miss Margery Tyrell.”

Sansa turned in mix of shock and surprise at the other person in their circle, who she hadn’t noticed until now. - they hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, but Sansa couldn’t help but fear that her whole cover was about to be blown. _Blown by that power-hungry flower bitch no less. Are the Gods so mocking_?

With a sweet smile, Sansa hid her worry, hoping no one could hear her pounding heart: “It’s nice to meet you Miss Tyrell, I don’t believe I have ever had the pleasure of hearing of you.”

The words clearly stung, seeing the Rose-Princess ‘s lips twitch slightly. It wasn’t every day that someone didn’t know her or comment on how she was the famed beauty of the Seven Kingdoms – a title that had once been the great Cersei Lannister’s.

But although a little elated by the fact that she had been able to get a reaction from her old ‘friend’, Sansa only cared for something more pressing. She quickly and discreetly scanned the other woman’s face, whilst they shook hands.

No recognition of the small auburn girl she had once befriended shown through. – _Good_. Her identity was safe a little while longer.

After being fully introduced to both Margery Tyrell and Loras Tyrell, Sansa looked back at Margery Tyrell, confusion setting in.

“Not to sound rude, but why are we graced with the presence of people from Highgarden? Surely the North is too cold from people who have never experienced snow.”

“You don’t know? It’s becoming more and more apparent that the North is kept too in the dark from key news” Margery looked with a mix of excitement and taunt as she grinned at Sansa and then at the rest of the group.

“No, that’s why I’m asking.” Sansa replied, impatient in her confusion.

“I’m engaged.” She squealed and showed Sansa her left hand. A huge diamond sparkled on her finger. Sansa stared at it slightly impressed. It seemed that Margery Tyrell was finally getting what she had wanted ten years ago.

“Congratulations.” Sansa returned to her an as equally dazzlingly smile, and turned to the last person in the group whom she didn’t recognise . “And to you too.” Sansa grinned as she shook his hand. She could feel Baelon’s eyes on her and her stomach flipped.

“Oh no, the congratulations aren’t to me.” The man laughed. “I’m not the one that’s engaged.”

“What?” Sansa’s face turned white as she turned to look at Baelon. _Oh my, by the old Gods, no_!

“Paxter Redwyne’s not my fiancé.” Margery laughed and Sansa watched as she put her arm through Baelon’s and grinned at her. “Baelon’s my future husband to be.”

“Oh.” Sansa’s eyes widened , taking a step back as she felt the world spinning around her. - _Oh my God, this day is worse than I’d thought._

“Yes.” Baelon’s eyes searched Sansa’s. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Isn’t it amazing! My very own Targaryen!” Margery beamed, as Sansa felt sick to her stomach. “The whole of Westeros is jealous by the fact that I was able to snag the last one.”

“Uh yeah.” Sansa nodded demurely. _– Well I nearly fucked your precious Targaryen less than a week ago._

After another smile, Margery walked over to talk to others as Baelon walked over to Sansa his eyes still on hers.

“It’s not what you think.” He said slowly, his eyes piercing into Sansa’s.

“I think you’re engaged, what part of that do I have incorrect?”

Quickly composing herself, Sansa continued with the best smile she could muster: “May I offer my most heartfelt congratulations Mr Targaryen. I hope you and Miss Tyrell have a blissful marriage.”

And with that she turned away, and head for the hotel’s main entrance to slip through the main doors into oblivion.

 

**\- - - - - - - - -**

JON/ BAELON

 

_What the fuck are the Tyrells doing here?_

 

Baelon had been frustrated the whole evening, trying to get away from Margery Tyrell… trying to see where Lyanna had gone.

_At least she looked a little shaken up by the engagement announcement_ , he thought. But then he shook his head: _Who cares how she feels about the engagement, she’s with Harry! … and in any case the engagement isn’t real – Gods Dany why the fuck did you do this to me_?!

His thoughts were interrupted by Roose Bolton.

“Mr Targaryen.”

“Bolton” he answered with a tilt of his head.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to join during the week, I hope Miss Winters was accommodating enough in my absence.” – _I’d rather she had been more accommodating_

“It’s no problem Mr Bolton. I hope the issues have been sorted?”

“Yes they have.”

After a pause, Roose continued: “May I offer my congratulations by the way. I hadn’t realised you were so close to Miss Tyrell.”

Not wanting to get in Daenerys’s insane plan with Roose Bolton, Baelon simply grunted: “Thank you.”

He sipped on his drink before thinking of something: “Actually Bolton, I was wondering where Ms Winters was? There was a matter I wanted to discuss with her, but haven’t had the chance all day. Would you happen to know where she went?”

Jon thought he noticed a small twitch on the other man’s lips as he replied: “I think she went for a walk outside. She had said something about needing some fresh air.

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

“I don’t care what arrangement you have with Miss Tyrell, sir. It is none of my business.”

 

Not soon after Roose Bolton had indicated in what direction Lyanna had gone, Baelon had headed there to go find her, and clear the air. They were now both by the edge of the river, him trying to talk to her, as she was trying to walk away from him.

Frustrated by her answer, Baelon took hold of her arm and spun her around so that she was looking at him.

“Wrong: it is your business. How you perceive me is your business. I care very much what you think of me… Lyanna ple-“

“-Mr Targaryen!” Sansa interrupted through clenched teeth, “We should be heading back-“

“- Oh no you don’t. Really?! MR Targaryen?! After all we’ve been through? After that night?”

“That night was a mistake...nothing happened that night. I’m just glad nothing happened.”

“That night was NOT a mistake. You might deny everything else, but you will NOT take that kiss from me… how you kissed me as much as I kissed you … how your body fit so perfectly into mine…” As he continued to whisper, he drew closer, until he brushed his nose against her neck.

She didn’t moved, as if in a trans. Encouraged, Baelon moved closer, his lips softly landing on her neck. Sucking softly the porcelain skin. He felt her shiver under his touch, and he couldn’t help but grin. –

\- Suddenly she pulled away in panic. _Fuck! Not again_!

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, as she looked at him in mixture of panic and contempt.

“I was right about you. You are just as deceptive as the rest of them. Not that I didn’t already know. I just foolishly ignored my senses…”

Baelon, taunting her, replied: “You obviously didn’t because it seems I’m the only man in the North who hasn’t fucked you.”

_Slap_

Even though it had lasted less than a second, Baelon could still feel her hand on his cheek. He should have expected it- he deserved it- but that didn’t stop him from crowding into her space further.

“If you like it rough I’d be happy to oblige.”

This time he was ready. Before her hand landed on his face a second time, his own wrapped around her wrist in a tight grip.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that you shouldn’t hit your superior.”

“Fire me then. It would be welcome.” She gritted back.

“Tell me Miss Winters: what is it about me that repulses you so much? You seem to be your charming self for everyone but me? “

Stepping even closer, he continued: “Better yet: tell me what makes _Lyanna Winters_ tick? What are _her_ secrets? … I’m sure we would both be surprised by the answer.”

Sansa stared back into his eyes in defiance.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh please Miss Winters, you might be fooling others but you do not fool me. You accuse me of being deceptive, manipulative… yet you hide behind your own lies.”

In anger, Lyanna threw back at him: “I must say: you are a spectacular failure to what your friend installed in you?”

Baelon took a step back utterly confused: “My friend? What friend ? What do you mean?”

A sad look appeared on her face, but quickly disappeared making Baelon wonder if it had actually been there.

Looking away she finally answered harshly: “nothing… Don’t worry about it - I meant nothing by it.”

“No. Who did you mean?... Who were you talking about?” He asked, not wanting to drop the subject.

She tried to pull back, not looking at him: “No one… I got confused… I was thinking of some else… someone from a long time ago.”

Jon tilted his head back with a bitter laugh: “HA! Well it seems you are dead set on holding every piece of yourself behind that armour of yours. So typical. Don’t know why I was expecting any different.”

“I might have secrets, like everybody else, but at least I have principles and a sense of honour.”

“I’m glad to hear it, even though I don’t truly believe it.”

Looking really annoyed now, Lyanna stared back at him in contempt: “Tell me Mr Targaryen, does your fiancée know about the busty blonde that was in your room a week ago? Or as a matter fact all the other women you have been known to have slept with?”

Baelon couldn’t help but grin: “Is that jealousy I hear Miss Winters? As I keep on repeating: if you are jealous I am more than happy to oblige in removing your frustrations.”

“Haha not jealousy – more relief that I was not as foolish as all those unfortunate women. I just wonder if they even knew a single thing about the man they had slept with. - Probably not. It would have made them run for the hills.”

“Is that what you want: for me to tell you something about me?... Is that how you do it will all the other men? They tell you their deep dark secrets and then you sleep with them?”

“For someone who is trying to ‘woo’ me you have a great way of doing it… might as well just call me a whore, if that’s what you think of me.”

Baelon growled in frustration, not understanding the woman in front of him.

“What do you want from me? Tell me?! We are both attracted to each other, but for some reason you… You know there was-is something between us but you deny it to me and yourself. You hide behind this… this persona…this perfect primed PA … let all these guys that are wrong for you…So tell me: What. Do. You. _Want_?“

“I want you to tell me the truth,” she said.

_You can’t handle the truth_ , and Baelon knew he couldn’t handle these feelings for her.

But he was so pissed off. On top of that, his whole life felt like it had been turned inside out.

So, he lost it.

“You want the truth? I was fucking that girl and could see nothing but you. That’s the truth.” He moved toward her predatorily, and she backed away. “I got into the shower that morning with her, and the only way I could finish the job was to imagine she was you. That’s the truth.”

It should have stopped there.

Instead, Baelon locked his arms around her as she leaned her back against a tree. He kept going.

“You want more? Daenerys requested my presence back at Kings Landing earlier this week, something to do with needing to boost public relations with the Tyrells. She wants me to date and have a ‘public engagement’ with Margery Tyrell. When I refused to go to Kings, the Tyrells were invited here, not knowing that I had been officially engaged to one of the most annoying women of the realm- I am supposed to be sweet talking Margery Tyrell at this very moment, but instead, I’m here, fighting the urge to back you up against this tree and fuck you so hard that I’ll have to carry you back to your room.

Oh but sweetheart that’s not all: I feel sick to my stomach every time I think of _him_ or any other man putting his hands on you, touching you – because I want to be the only one touching you.

That night when he opened the door, right after that kiss, I was ready to rip him apart.

I feel all these things for you and to top it off I don’t even know your fucking name! I don’t even know who the fuck you really are: I don’t trust you. But worse is I can’t trust myself around you because I don’t seem to care about anything else when you are near me.”

He was angry. His chest hurt.

Breathing heavily, he continued with a sigh of resignation: “Everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down in the past 7 months. Since that day you walked into the ball room in that green dress, I’m questioning everything, and I don’t fucking know what to do. That’s. The. Truth.”

Baelon released the tree, dropping his arms to his sides, away from her, because he knew any more time here would have been detrimental, although being brutally honest for once felt like a huge weight had lifted off of his chest.

 

After a long pause, he added: “You want the truth but you can’t even give it yourself…” before he walked away, back to the hotel, not looking back.

 

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	16. Chapter 14 – Repercussions into the self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the lively conversation between Baelon and Lyanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter, hope you like it anyway.

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

Sansa was still leaning against the tree, breathing heavily.

 

_I can’t handle the truth? **I** can’t handle the truth! Noooo Mister Targaryen: the truth has been forced on me since I was twelve years old... since I was taken from my home, from my family.... since my beloved showed his true colours.... since I saw my father die before my very eyes... since..._

_If anything the truth has now become my only ally in this world of deception..._

_No, Mister Targaryen I can handle the truth just **fine**. The question is do you?_

_What would the ex-Commander of the Night’s Watch do if he knew the extent of what his precious aunt, his lovely Targaryen family has planned for him, or of what Roose Bolton had planned or a matter fact what Baelon Targaryen do when he knew that I was no more than a cold blooded killer?_

Breathing more heavily she slumped to the ground.

_The truth is we don’t belong in the same world, and we never will – so it’s best for you, for everyone that you forget about me. - In another life maybe, but Joffrey Baratheon made sure that Sansa Stark’s life would never be the same again..._

But, no. Sansa Stark wasn’t the killer... no, it was Alayne Stone who killed Petyr Baelish, it was Mercedene Black who killed all those other people... that man in Braavos... those Freys... Sansa Stark had just learnt how to play the game...

Her head was now reeling.... starting to hurt

_... But maybe Baelon Targaryen is right... maybe I am sick of this never ending game... sick of the lies ... the truths hidden the lies... sick of the past, of Sansa Stark, of Alayne Stone, of Mercedene Black... maybe I could just forget about it all, and be Lyanna Winters. Lyanna Winters has a normal simple life... there is no Lannister in her life, no Littlefinger, no House of Black and White... just a normal job, with a sweet boyfriend... maybe it was best to forget the truths and live in this life... this normal life._

 

“Merce? ... Mercedene?”

 

The sound of his voice made her close her eyes momentarily.

She quickly wiped the tears she hadn’t noticed had been falling from her eyes, and slowly stood up to face Harry.

“Merce? ... Mercedene? Are you ok?”

A sudden jolt of anger went through her body, unable to hold the resentment of the last twelve years, she violently grabbed Harry with both hands a flipped them so that he was now being pushed against the tree. She brought her face close to his and whispered through gritted teeth:

“You must be mistaken Mr Waynwood: that’s not my name, sweety. My name is Lyanna - Lyanna Winters, your lovely adoring girlfriend... **right, swee-ty**?

When Harry didn’t answer, just staring at her in shock, she impatiently shook him: “RIGHT?”

“Yea... th-that’s right sweetheart... Lya...”

“Good.” And with that she grabbed his collar more gently, and thrust her mouth on his.

It took a few moments for Harry to realise what was happening, but when he did, he needed little encouragement to return her embrace.

After a few moments of kissing each other passionately, both of them started moving their hands, exploring the other’s upper body. As Sansa ran her hands down his back, softly scratching his spine, Harry moved his lips from hers to her throat.

He was slowly moving his head down, towards her shirt, as she tilted her head back in encouragement, when he suddenly stopped.

Panting heavily, he whispered: “Merce...”

Her head still tilted back, she softly moaned: “it’s Lyanna...”

Trying move backwards, only to have the tree stopping him, Harry slowly tried to catch his breath: “Stop... Merce- Mercedene.... as much as I might hate myself later on, stop- STOP!”

Pushing her away as her hands had slowly moved to his belt, he continued, trying to look into her eyes: “Merce, this isn’t you...”

Finally looking back at him, her eyes shown in irritation: “I thought we had been over this: **its Lyanna**.”

“No it isn’t... and we both know it....no one is around... we are completely alone. Now talk to me: what has gotten into you?... and don’t pretend you suddenly feel something more for me...not twelve hours ago you were more than clear on our relationship... friendship. Now, talk – to - me.”

 

Sansa slowly moved even further away from him, and replied: “If you don’t want Lyanna Winters fine... that’s just fine... just leave me alone. Just know that half the office wants to _fuck_ Lyanna Winters, Baelon Targaryen included.”

She then added with a contemptible laugh: “haha ... but don’t worry.... Lyanna Winters is a good girl, she’s fateful. She won’t let anyone fuck her except for her lovely sweet boyfriend.”

And with that she did what Baelon Targaryen had done not thirty minutes ago: she turned and walked away heading back inside...

_Seems you know something after all Baelon Targaryen ... Lyanna Winters can’t handle the truth._

 

\- - - - - - - - -

 

JON/ BAELON

 

“uuhhh.... ooohhh...ohhh by the Gods....”

 

Slowly lifting his head, Baelon woke the next morning with the worst hang over ever.

 

As he gradually moved towards the bathroom, he remembered the events of the previous evening: Margery arriving, Lyanna joining the office drinks with fucking- Harry Hardyn, going outside to find Lyanna, yelling at her- calling her a whore, bumping into Tyrell once more, confronting her, going to his room and getting fuck ass drunk...

_Yea that seems about right..._

As the water fell on him, waking him up further, and clearing his brain somewhat, Baelon sighed.

He didn’t want to see anyone today, just wanted get over this fucking hang over and then call his aunt and have a lovely little chat with her...

A knock at the door proved that his wants were probably not in the cards today.

He sighed once more as he got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the door – _Duty calls_.

He opened it to find his ever dutiful secretary on the other side.

“Sorry to bother you Mr Targaryen, but its past twelve, and you haven’t been answering your phone, and, well, Mr Martell is suppose to arrive within the hour.”

“Thank you Mrs Teal. No, I didn’t forget, just had a heavier night than expected.”

Walking back into the room, leaving the door open for her to enter, he moved toward his closet, as he continued talking: “Do you know how the rest of the team are doing after last night’s drinks?”

“Everything is fine sir, more or less. I’m sure everything will be sorted by the time we head for the Twins.”

Grabbing a clean shirt, he turned to face her.

“Has something happened?”

“Ohh... you know sir... just the usual office dealings. A few people drank a bit too much last night... a few regretful things to try to undo...”

_Tell me about it..._

“What has happened? I hope nothing is too important has happened: I have a team to run and I don’t want anything making us fall behind.”

The older lady blushed slightly as she replied: “Ohh you know sir... young love... nothing that can be easily fixed.”

“Young love?” Baelon asked not understanding at all what she was referring to.

“Miss Winters and Mr Waynwood...it seems that they had an argument right outside their room last night, after you went to talk with Miss Tyrell... they don’t seem to have resolved it this morning. Speaking of which did everything get resolved with Miss Tyrell? I couldn’t help but notice her absence this morning.”

“Yes, everything has been resolved, thank you for your concern. Miss Tyrell unfortunately had to take an early train back to Highgarden.”

After a small happy sigh, the fifty year old woman finally moved back towards the door: “Well anyway, I’ll go check on how things are going downstairs.”

Turning one last time to face Baelon she quietly added:

“If you don’t mind me saying sir, I happy to hear Miss Tyrell wasn’t good enough to handle ... the cold. From the little I saw of her, she didn’t seem like the best match... for the North.... unlike Miss Winters: that girl is just so sweet... and to be able to handle Mr Bolton so efficiently... Well, not that I have anything wrong to say about Mr Waynwood but I always thought Miss Winters could do better than him.“, all the while giving him a pointed look, before leaving the room.

 

Putting on his tie, Baelon couldn’t help but agree with his secretary.

 

. . . . . . . . . . .

 

_Two evenings later_

 

“Third in the corner.”

Baelon aimed his pool cue to the white ball, about to hit the ball, when suddenly Oberyn said:

“By the way Miss Lyanna Winters called.”

At the sound of that name, the cue in Baelon’s hand slipped, barely grazing the white ball.

Straightening himself, trying to calm his beating heart, Baelon asked: “Lyanna Winters called?”

“Yea, called when you were out. She asked for two ... files, and wanted to apologise for her behaviour last Saturday- not staying at the office drinks long enough.”

Lowering himself to the table, Oberyn placed his cue: “two on the side.”

“Did she say anything about me?”

“Ms Winters?”

“When she called.”

“Did she say anything about you?”

“Yea... It’s just that on Saturday, we had a quick chat and I think I may have gone too far, said a few things I definitely shouldn’t have said. Did she mention me at all?”

“... uhhrr... no just the files, and leaving early... Is there a problem?” Oberyn replied with a grin, before putting another stripped ball in one of the table’s pockets.

“Nope... no problem.”

No problem what so ever except that he hadn’t seen Lyanna since yelling at her on Saturday night.

The last two days Baelon had been locked in meetings with the heads of his different departments, and since Roose Bolton was back from the Dreadfort, Lyanna hadn’t been in on the meetings. The rest of the time he had spent with Oberyn.

 

Lost in his thoughts, Baelon didn’t notice that the pool table had been emptied of all balls, and that his friend was now looking at him with a huge grin.

When Oberyn coughed loudly, Baelon finally looked up: “Yes?... What?... so sorry...just... hum...” He coughed trying to clear his throat and mind.

“Now what did you possibly say to the lovely Miss Lyanna Winters on Saturday that you let me win so easily?”

Looking away, he turned red as he replied: “I may have insinuated she was easy... that she slept with men for favours...”

Oberyn’s grin vanished as he gapped in shock: “You called her whore?!”

“Well ... not exactly...”

“Really cos from what you just said it kind of does sound like you did...”

Running his hands through his hair, Baelon sighed: “I didn’t mean to... I was just really pissed off about the whole Tyrell thing, and then there she was with Waywood... and I... I just snapped ok?!”

 

His friend looked at him a moment before replying: “She’s really getting to you isn’t she?”

Sighing, looking down Baelon replied: “Yea... yea she is... but in any case this will be resolved soon. Right?... it has too...”

Looking up at Oberyn, he continued, pleading to himself more than anything: “We go to the Twins tomorrow... and every nightmare of this last week will soon be forgotten... right?”

Oberyn couldn’t help but laugh as he replied: “If you say so.”

 

. . . .

 

_BOUMMM_!

 

Unfortunately as a huge blast was heard, with both Baelon and Oberyn being tossed forward from their seats, and the train derailed from the tracks, the next day proved that the nightmares of the week were far from over.

 


	17. Chapter 15 – Chaos and Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of last chapter - train ride to the Twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> difficult chapter to write - especially the fight scenes, tried to make them as clear and action packed as possible...
> 
> hopefully you like :)

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

Sansa and Harry were on the platform about to board the train, when she heard someone call their names several times. Turning she noticed, Mrs Teal and Mr Redarm walking towards them.

She also noted Baelon in right behind them with Oberyn Martell, but she quickly looked away, back to the former two, when his eyes brief met with hers.

As the other two PA’s reached them, Mrs Teal informed Harry and her: “Apparently the PA’s have been placed together. Some of the higher ups wanted to do meetings during the train journey. Why don’t you two join us in our carriage?”

Harry quickly replied with a smile: “Of course, that sounds great.” Before giving Sansa a look – _yep, had the same thought: ‘meetings’ probably meant ‘getting drunk’, whilst the PA’s were stuck in second class._

 

. . . . . . . .

_A couple of hours later_

 

Sansa was facing Mrs Teal, to listening to her talk about her daughter who had given birth to her first grandchild the previous month when suddenly -

 

_\- BOUUMM_!

 

\- And the next thing Sansa knew, she was being thrown forwards, into Mrs Teal’s lap.

 

Sansa felt as much as heard the explosion... and then there was noise and smoke everywhere, people starting to panic...

Sansa slowly breathed in and out, getting her bearings...

... her ears were ringing

.... she felt some pain in her wrist and leg from how she had landed

.... then, someone grabbed her arm... Harry grabbed her arm...

 

“Lya...Lyanna ... are you ok?”

 

She mentally congratulated Harry for being able to keep their cover even in a moment of ‘panic’, even though Mrs Teal and Mr Redarm were both too alarmed to hear what he was saying.

She quickly replied, nodding: “Yea I’m fine... check that Redarm is ok, I’ll take care of Mrs Teal.”

With that she straightened herself, and looked at the older woman whose lap she had landed in not a minute ago. Mrs Teal was not screaming at least. Even though Sansa saw the panic etched across the fifty-year old woman’s face, the normally no-nonsense, very efficient secretary seemed to be trying to keep calm– _trying_ being the operative word: Sansa had to repeat her name several times before the other woman looked at her.

“Mrs Teal... Mrs Teal .... Cynthia Teal, look at me. Everything is going to be ok. I need you to listen to me: Mr Waynwood, and Mr Redarm are smashing the window as we speak. You are then going to take only what you need – your purse, coat... – and you are going to follow Mr Redarm outside. He will bring you to safety ... ok?... nod if you understand what I am saying.”

Thankfully the older PA seemed to understand because she quietly nodded in response.

Still holding Mrs Teal, Sansa turned to see the two men having finally broken through the carriage window.

_Good- at least one thing out of the way..._

Sansa slowly started guiding Mrs Teal towards the window as Redarm made a jump down to the snow covered ground below. Just as Mrs Teal was a about to jump into ---‘s arms, she turned to Sansa and said in a small panicked voice: “What about you dear?”

Sansa squeezed her arm in reassurance: “Don’t worry about me... I’ll be fine. Henry and I are going to help others that might be trapped in the other carriages.”

 

Once the older woman was safely out of the carriage, Sansa turned to Harry.

“Bolton? Frey and Bolton?” he asked.

“Safe to assume it’s both.”

“Right.” Harry answered with a nod. “Well we’d better get a move on then...”

“Yea, but first can you check the perimeter and keep a look out whilst I change. – Don’t really want to be fighting off the bad guys in a tight skirt, blouse, and jacket.”

Harry eyed her with a grin: “Shame, would have been very stylish... but who am I to stop a woman from taking her clothes off.”

Grabbing her bag, she called back; “Ha-Henry: lookout into the corridor, NOT at me changing...you have a job to do: do it.”

There might have been an explosion, there might be many people either dead or severely injured, but they were _facelesses_... they had a job, nothing got past them doing their job... especially in a situation like this where they knew the attack had been deliberate, and danger imminent.

From her suitcase Sansa took out her black hoody, black jeans, and her sneakers... _– and let’s not forget the small ‘emergency’ backpack, with extra ammunition, extra gun, a few extra knifes, fake ID and other ‘essentials’ for an undercover faceless_...

Changed, she grabbed Harry’s bag, and brought it to him.

“Time to shine. You ready?”

Looking at her briefly, Harry gave her a curt nod: “Yea.”

He was about to move into the corridor when he turned back, and gave her a quick but intense kiss. “Let’s go.” And with that he stepped into the corridor.

Alone in the carriage, Sansa took a quick second to get her bearings from the kiss, before taking out her Kel-Tec, and joined him.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

By the time they had started moving down the corridor, towards the first class, and executive class carriages, most of the ‘civilians’ had thankfully moved out of the train, letting Harry and Sansa peruse the wreckage more or less easily. There was just the odd obstruction to move out of their way. However, it also didn’t really help that there was only the emergency lighting on and it was starting to get dark outside.

 

After silently moving for a good ten minutes, Sansa heard noises from behind them.

Obviously Harry heard them as well, as he quickly but quietly grabbed her, and moved them into the closest carriage, waiting as the noises came closer.

They both concentrated on the noises:

... _feet stomping, some kind of metal rasping against the train’s wall_

_... four sets of feet_

_... probably with a glock each_

_... by the amount of noise they are doing, they are definitely not pro’s_

_... probably idiots who want to find some ‘action’_

_... probably Freys... most definitely not Roose or Ramsay Bolton_

 

As they neared, Harry gave her a silent signal, which she replied to with a nod, and then...

... first shadow passed, then second, third... ... fourth-

\- Harry jumped from behind on the last guy twisting his neck rather quickly, whilst Sansa went to the third.

It was only once Harry had reached for the second that the last two realised they were being attacked from behind, but by then it was too late: three dead, and the ‘leader’ was being restrained by Harry, as Sansa started moving the bodies into the carriage.

... _Amateurs_

 

As she moved them to the corner of the carriage, she listened to Harry interrogate the last of the four.

“Frey?”

“Not sayin’ noth’n”

After a short pause, Sansa heard a groan before: “Alright... stop... fine... yea, Frey.”

“How many?”

“First round: a dozen or so...but t’ere will be more comin’...”

“So what’s the plan? What are you up to? And what about Bolton?”

“w’o?”

Sansa turned to see Harry twist the knife he had in the man’s thigh:

“Arggg... stop...ok-ok... ‘e’s... ‘e’s suppose to already be on the train... one or two joinin’ ‘im... we were to find certain people...”

“Who?”

“Some of the ‘igher ups... the suits... dunno names, just ‘ad pictures to look at...”

“What about the survivors - civilians?”

“Made sure the key people weren’t part of t’ose w’o got off... as for the suits... big explosion should cover the bullets, and any trace of this little shindig...” The man replied with a sneer.

Coming closer to the man’s face, Harry half growled: “Did you have to memorise my face?”

After a small pause, the man responded with a nod.

Harry then pointed at Sansa: “Hers?”

The man moved his head from right to left: “nooo”

Sansa couldn’t help but sigh in relief. – _They know about Harry, but not about Mercedene Black ... or Sansa Stark..._

“Did the picture mention anything else about me?”

“Just said ‘dan’erous’.”

“Yea... do you wanna know why?”

“N-not really.”

Not listening to the response, Harry continued: “Cos we’re facelesses... and you know what that means, right?”

From the way the man’s face paled. he obviously did: “n-n-no ...p-please... I told you everyt’in’...p-“

“Yea, which means you have outlived your use.” Harry replied as he twisted the man’s neck. - _craacck_

 

Standing back up, they both took the still loaded guns and started moving once more.

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

They had been going down the corridor once more, nearly reaching the end of the second class carriages, when suddenly-

\- A shadow jumped out of a carriage, onto Harry!

Sansa didn’t have time to yelp, or help because she saw a second coming out. Thankfully he seemed surprised by her presence, and she was able to catch him somewhat off-guard:

\- _Shoot the head_ – _bam_!... and the body fell to the floor.

But before she could go to Harry and help him, a third figured emerged, kicking her gun out of her hand, and then she felt a sharp pain on the right side of her stomach! – _FUCK_! _That hurt like a Bitch_!

 

With a slow breath she moved towards him, and...

_Distract target_ – Sansa grabbed a bag from floor and thru it in his face

_Block his blind jab_ – She quickly blocked his right hook

_Use his unbalance to advantage_ – She kicked him in the ribs

_Cut to cross to left cheek-_ Shethru in a punch to the left side of his jaw

_Discombobulate_ – both of her hands hit each side of his jaw

_He’s dased – good ... no, break cracked ribs_ – with a right punch

_...Weaken right jaw_ – with a hit from the left elbow

_Now fracture_ – solid punch to the right side of his jaw with a left punch

_... and finish_ \- Heel kick to diaphragm.

 

The man was out cold before he hit the ground, but Sansa didn’t waste time lingering: she quickly twisted his neck – _cracck_...

As she looked up, she saw both Harry and his assailant fall out of the carriage’s open window.

She quickly retrieved her gun from the floor and was about to move towards them when she heard a murmur behind her. Slowly rising her gun, she moved to the carriage’s entrance...

... and thrust her gun in the face of the person coming through the entrance...

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON/ BAELON

 

Standing up, Baelon looked at his friend with concern: "You ok?"

Oberyn groaned from where he had landed: "yea... Last time I was thrown in the air it was for much more enjoyable reasons."

Baelon couldn't help but chuckle...

 

As they got their bearings, they heard the beginning of panic outside, people moaning, things being moved out of the way – thrown-, glass trying to be broken...

 

After a few moments, Baelon started to speak: “We should probably see wh-“

 

-Suddenly a sound outside caught their attention: the sound of a gun, and then people screaming _\- what the....?_

 

Both quickly straightened themselves, and reached for their concealed weapons- they might be business men but Jon had been Commander of the Night's Watch and Oberyn Martell had once been part of the Second Sons... and even before that he didn't go anywhere without a gun- not since his sister had been raped and murdered.

Moving towards the door, Jon was about to reach for it, when it was quickly opened: Jaqen H'ghar’s head popping in:

“Armed men coming our way from both the outside and from the main corridor. Going to move you two farther up the train, whilst the others try and stop them.”

 

With that Baelon was grabbed, and shoved him down the private corridor, at the head of the train, Oberyn being swiftly moved behind him. As he started to move, he noticed the silent figure of Sandor Clegane in front of him, and two other men he didn’t know behind them.

The six men quickly moved through the fallen bits of the train, trying to get to safety. As they moved, they occasionally heard shots and banging behind them – _Someone was trying to get inside the executive suite..._

 

As they continued to move, Jon couldn’t help thinking: _We shouldn’t be running away... we should be helping... people are in danger out there_!

Though when Jon started slowing down, the head of his team half growled: “Sir- we have to move. Others will deal with them...”

To emphasis his point, Jaqen once again pushed Jon forward.

“Sir... these men, they are after **you**... the more **you move** , the more **they will move** towards us and away from the others... so **MOVE**!”

 

Suddenly there was a crash behind them and Jaqen and the two other bodyguards moved backwards. – After a pause, Jon heard them starting to shoot at whoever was following.

In the mean time, Jon, Oberyn and Sandor ran forwards.

 

When they reached the second class carriages, they noticed these had upper and lower decks: Sandor made them go on the higher deck, as they heard movement of the lower deck.

However, within moments, someone jumped onto Sandor, being closely followed by several others. taking shots at the new comers, Jon and Oberyn started moving back down. As they reached the main level once more, they looked up to see Sandor and two of the men fall from the higher out of a whole on the side of the train.

_... shit! – Well no time to worry about that_... Jon couldn’t help but think, whilst he took several shots at the last man coming towards them.

Then once again, it was just Jon and Oberyn: both with torn suits, and a few scrapes and bruises, but thankfully nothing major...

Jon looked at his friend as he raised his gun: “I’m out... you?”

“Same.”

“Shit.”

“Yea, tell me about it.... Well... probably best to go see the lower level...” suggested Oberyn.

Jon replied with a sigh: “Yea... hopefully they’ll be less of them this way.”

 

However barely a few minutes moving down the lower level, they heard a grunt and a yelp.

 

Jon moved slowly through the ruins of the train wagon, to the entrance of the carriage where the noise came from until –

\- Suddenly: his face met with the end of a gun – _Fuck_!

 

But the next sound was not the sound of the gun going off, it was...

“Baelon?”

After the brief moment of moving his concentration away from the muzzle of the gun, Jon’s eyes came face to face with Lyanna Winters’...

“Lyanna?!”

 

Looking back at the gun in her hand, he could help but exclaim: “Gods why-the fuck- do you have a gun?!” As Oberyn moved forward and joined them in the carriage.

“No time to explain, we need to go.” She replied, guiding them towards the open window.

Jon tried to make sense of the fact that Lyanna Winters was holding a gun in her hand and another one was sticking out of her jeans...

... _jeans? Wasn’t she wearing a suit earlier?... WTF Jon!? Concentrate on what’s important here: she is holding a gun, and giving out instructions as if... as if... as if she’s some kind of agent_...

With that thought, Jon stopped a couple of meters from her, and raised his empty gun: “Wait Lyanna...you need to tell us you are? ... Who do you work for?”

Lyanna looked back to first stare at him, then Oberyn, both pointing their guns at her. After a brief pause, she said:

“Both your guns are empty... and if you really thought I was a threat you or Mr Martell here would have already started trying to kick me in the stomach... so now: can we stop with this silly 20 questions and get a move on?”

She then turned back towards the window and looked out into the evening light.

“Fuck-k... where is he?”

Jon’s brow frowned even more, as Oberyn asked: “Who?”

“No one... never mind... Come on, we should jump down here... thankfully the ‘civilians’ have been moved by the ‘rescue team’… we’re between Moat Calin and Greywater Watch... both probably filled with both Freys and Boltons... no point in going to either ... if we head towards the forest, there should still be a few abandoned houses not too far way...”

 

_How the fuck does she know all this_?

 

As Jon reached her side, he couldn’t help but ask: “W-wait, why should we follow you?”

 

Lyanna turned once more to face them. With an exasperated exhale, she replied:

“If your question is if I’m working with Roose Bolton or his bastard son? The answer is ‘no’... for Frey? ‘No’... Am I going to kill you? ‘No’... As for whom I am, and who I’m working for…it doesn’t really matter … I’m the one with the gun, and unless you still want to be on this train when two dozen or so more Freys arrive, I suggest you follow me.”

With that she stepped away from him, into the opening, and off the train, into the night.

 


	18. Chapter 16 – Safety and ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last chapter - Lyanna/Sansa, Oberyn, and Jon/Baelon go find safety

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

As Sansa landed on the snow, she felt a sudden stab of pain on the right side of her stomach –

- _mother_ _fucker!_

– With the whole excitement of coming face to face with Baelon and then wondering where Harry was, she had forgotten about the knife stab she had received during the fight – _bloody Frey bastard_.

 

She slowly corrected her posture, trying not to hurt her side more.

Sansa took a deep breath whilst looking around. The task proved difficult: trying to look through the darkness with the only light coming from the train - mainly from the far end of the train where the explosion had hit.

_Where’s Harry?.... Where are Sandor and Jacquen for that matter? ... Where is everyone_?...

 

Two soft thuds behind her informed her that the two men had decided to follow her outside.

_\- Good, now time to get going_...

Sansa had barely walked a few steps from the train when she saw a hand on presenting a rather large sweater to her.

“Here – we found some large clothes in one of the suitcases; better to cover up more: night is falling fast and it’s only going to get colder.”

Without looking at Baelon, she took it, responding with only a quick nod; before starting to move forwards once more as she put the extra layer of warmth on.

When they had been walking ten minutes surrounded by darkness, she finally thought it was safe to speak: “Where are your security teams?”

“We got separated.”

Oberyn Martell then asked: “How do you know more Freys are coming?”

“I asked one.”

“How do you know he didn’t lie?”

“Don’t think he did... can be quite persuasive. In any case, didn’t really want to stay and find out.”

“Did he tell you anything else?... do you know why they attacked the train...?”

Sansa sighed in response: “He didn’t know much, but from what he said and from what I already know, I can make a few assumptions on how and why they attacked the train.”

 

After a pause, Baelon’s irritated voice broke the silence once more: “And would you mind sharing your theory with us?”

“I’m sure you have a theory of your own, why don’t you share yours with us?”

Baelon, using his ‘boss’ voice answered: “Rather hear yours.”

“Fine: Bolton and Freys are most definitely working together once more... mainly doing insider trading and counterfeiting several stocks...”

“What?! How do you know this?”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one; ask your friend here: him and your aunt definitely know something about it. And don’t pretend you don’t have you own little investigation going... you must have some idea what they were doing?”

Even more irritated Baelon persisted: “What else is in this theory of yours?”

“The mid-winter quarter is soon coming to a close. It would make sense that they would want to make a move before then: be able to diminish Targaryen stock, whilst being able to buy real stock for cheap. But the problem was the cover needed to affect your company’s stock so drastically, and the distraction needed to be able to do it and get away with it.

– An ‘accidental’ train explosion would be perfect: _they_ would come before and with the rescue team, to make sure the key players were taken care of, and the bullets, and devastation would be covered with a second explosion.

My guess is a second smaller train, ‘unable to stop’, hits the back of the train, where first and executive class carriages are: covering up all the dead bodies. These would include the ‘higher ups’, the ones who would know in more detail about the Northern Branch stocks... I can only assume that most of your partners are probably dead by now, except if they had a security team as good as yours.”

“How come you are only telling us this now? Why didn’t you warn TC beforehand?”

“Let’s just say I don’t trust easily, but you already know that. In any case, I didn’t know the extent of their plans... especially not this attack, nor did I have enough proof. Their main problem now is the fact that there are three witnesses to contradict their little story... especially if one of them is head of the Northern Branch. They definitely want _you_ dead.”

“So, where are we going now then?”

“West. To a safe place. – Now let’s stop with the twenty questions: we need to get to safety from _them_ and from nature as soon as possible.”

 

With that, Sansa started walking at a faster pace, ignoring the pain coming from her side.

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

_Crunch... crunch... crunch..._

Since it was the middle of winter, the snow was already deep, even this far south, not helping in keeping a fast pace. Neither did the cut to her side.

But Sansa was not deterred. – _Cover is our priority_.

 

_Crunch... crunch... crunch..._

They had been walking for a good hour when snow started to falling.

Her wound was not bleeding with the cold but was still hurting like a bitch.

 

_Crunch... crunch... crunch..._

Another hour and Sansa definitely couldn’t feel her legs or her right side anymore; but she just kept pushing on.

 

_Crunch... crunch... crunch..._

By the time they had reached the forest, she had started losing feeling in her hands and the snow had started getting heavier.

“Ar-re w-we t-th-there y-e-et-t?” the cold making Baelon stammer.

“So-oon.” Sansa stuttered in response.

 

Finally after what seemed to be walking for several hours, they reached it: one of the many House of Black and White hide outs throughout Westeros. More specifically one of the hide outs she had used when she had started spying on the Freys, knowing their habits... before she had completed her assignment: killing eleven of them.

In front of them stood several seemingly abandoned farm-houses, and barns, surrounded by a few trees.

She led the group to one of the barns at the far end. Walking inside, she reached for the stone floor at the other end of the enclosure.

After a pause remembering how to get into the safe house, she pushed ones of the larger stone tiles.

A small click and then a floor door appearing confirmed the entrance to the underground.

 

Going down the stairs, Sansa led them inside the main space. As the two men familiarised themselves with the room, she slowly shifted to the table that was placed closer to one of the walls, trying not to winch from the pain in her side.

 

Her hands still shaking from the cold, she put her bag on the table and took out one of the burner phones, sending a message to both Jacquen and Harry. - _Hopefully at least one of them is still alive_...

 

**_‘With RED 3 and ORANGE 2 – Safe’_ **

 

As she pressed send, Sansa heard someone’s voice behind her, but she didn’t know what they said – the pain in her side had gotten too great, especially now that they had slowed down, and were out of the cold.

Trying to keep her mind clear, Sansa reached for one of the chair’s around the table... _a just a few steps_..

But her feet fumbled...

Her vision blurred...

Her hand felt something...

 

...and then there was darkness

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

JON/ BAELON

 

 

As he tried to warm himself up, Jon looked around: in was a large space with several rooms going off it. At one end of the main room was a couch. On another were several computer screens and monitors. Two of the walls were covered with several knives and guns, and other weapons.

 

... _nice place_... _can’t say much for the internal decor but this looks better than the Watch’s safehouses_...

 

Suddenly Jon heard a scrape and then something fall to the floor. Turning to face the noise, he saw Lyanna fall to the ground.

_Fuck_!

“Lyanna!” he yelled as both Oberyn and him ran to her.

 

Oberyn, reaching her first, studied her – “Help me carry her to the table... I’ll have a look at her whilst you look around to see anything that could be useful.”

 

After they placed Lyanna on the table, Jon took her bag and emptied the contents on to the couch. Thankfully through the mess of stuff he saw a small first aid kit.

After giving it to Oberyn, he then rushed around the underground compound, to fortunately find a larger selection of medical supplied in one of the smaller rooms.

When he got back to the main room with the extra medical kit, Oberyn was cutting through her sweater.

 

_-Shit_!? – Jon couldn’t help but catch his breath, as he saw the blood on her shirt. Once it was removed, it showed a nasty cut on the right side of her stomach.

Oberyn grumbled: “The girl was foolish... she should have told us she was wounded...”

 

After examining the front, Oberyn lifted her on her side showing her back-

-“What the fuck?!”

Jon couldn’t help but gasp once more. Several scars covered half her back, from the bottom of her shoulder blades to just above her hips: criss-crossing lines, as if she had been whipped- several times – _nine_ times to be exact.

 

He turned to Oberyn, fury rising within him: “Do you think Bolton did that?”

Oberyn shook his head: “No... At least not recently: these are at least 10 years old I would say... and the Boltons are more known for flaying... “

The thought didn’t reassure Baelon in anyway.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

They had removed her clothes (apart from her underwear), cleaned her, taken care of her wound, covered her and had placed her in one of the rooms for her to rest in.

And during the whole time Lyanna had remained unconscious; though Oberyn had placed a towel with milk of the poppy above her face when he had dealt with her wound.

 

After finding clothes, and a bathroom, they quickly cleaned themselves up, and had changed into the black clothes stored in the safehouse.

 

With regards to Lyanna Winters- _or Alayne Stone_ \- they had also removed the green contacts, confirming her Tully eyes, and had looked through her bag properly:

Two guns, several knives, several fake IDs (driving licences, passports, bank cards... even library cards...), a burner phone (in addition to the one she had dropped when she had fallen), money in different currencies, hair dye, a few utensils...

Unfortunately, nothing gave any indication of who she really was, or who she worked for...

They had looked through the phones, but it was all unfortunately encrypted, and there was no trace of any messages she might have sent or received.

 

After studying her stuff, both Baelon and Oberyn had looked through the compound.

Baelon had gone to the monitors, turned them on. There again, frustration: the drives had been completely wiped – no indication of what had been previously on them.

Only the two screens that were linked to the security cameras proved to be useful.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . .

 

He had gone to rest only a few hours ago, when Baelon was awoken by screaming-

“NOOOO.... Pleaseeee Noooooo! ....”

_What the Fuck_?!

 

Running out of his room, he bumped into Oberyn as they both went to where the screams came from – Lyanna’s room.

 

Inside they saw her thrashing in her bed, unconscious, yelling at the ghosts who haunted her sleep.

“Nooo, please, not him... nooo ... n-not him...”

 

Oberyn placed a cool wet cloth on her forehead, whilst stroking her arm. Thankfully she seemed to calm down, but did not awake.

“How... how much do you know of her past?” Oberyn asked with a frown.

Baelon sighed, taking her hand in his, trying to comfort her.

“Everything we’ve found from her past seems really sketchy. If Grenn’s information is correct her name is Alayne Stone and she is Lysa Aryn’s illegitimate daughter. The blue eyes seem to confirm the information. No information has been found on who the father might be.

After Jon Arryn died, Petyr Baelish brought her back to her mother. Barely a year later, both Lysa Arryn and then Baelish were killed, and the girl vanished-”

 

_HUmmm_ -A mumble from the woman in the bed interrupted Baelon.

 

Looking down at Lyanna with concern, Oberyn asked: “Do you think Baelish had anything to do with the scars? Do you think she was linked in any way to his brothels?”

Baelon’s stomach flared with anger as he remembered the report: “There are some suggestions... some evidence... that Baelish had his personal sights on her... and that he most probably abused her, even though she was would have been about fourteen at the time... His murder is still unsolved, and she is one of the suspects...”

They stood over her for quite a while, watching her with concern.

 

At some point, Baelon took the cloth from his friend: “I’ll watch over her... Go get some rest.”

 

. . . . . . . . . .

_The next morning_

 

He was lying down, when he felt something stir next to him.

Slowly waking up, groggy, it took Baelon a few minutes to remember where he was and what had happened... _the train... the Freys and Boltons... Lyanna... the safe house... Lyanna_!

He looked down at the figure lying next to him, to be met with blues eyes that were opening as well.

 

The silence was broken by a small soft voice: “Ned?”

 


	19. Chapter 17 - Time repeats its self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams/visions caused by fever from Sansa’s wound, and the milk of the poppy.

 

_Darkness and cold._

_All around me._

**_Is this death?_ **

****

**_Am I dead?_ **

_I went through my thoughts, tried to remember something, but nothing came to me. My mind was... **blank**._

_I couldn’t even remember who I was?... what was my name?... what had I been doing before the darkness came?..._

_Trying to clear my mind, or more specifically reawaken my mind, I tried to move... I willed my limbs to move, but nothing happened... or – well - more specifically they did not reach anything, feel anything as I moved them..._

_\- Suddenly, the darkness disappeared and I was in a large room, large pillars on both sides running down the length of the room, like a church..._

_... There were even large pained windows on both sides_

_...but this wasn’t a church_

**_...I know this place_ **

_I recognised the place but couldn’t figure out from where?_

_I looked around._

_The room was empty. Empty apart from me._

_At one end was a large door. Most likely the entrance._

_I turned around fully. At the other end was a large throne. It was all black, made of what seemed to be melted blades..._

_As I looked at it, I wondered why I had missed it until now. It drew in one’s attention. It was the only true furniture in the room._

_-Suddenly the scene shifted._

_The room was now packed. Looking around, I noticed that everyone was dressed in fineries. – studying them more closely, I realised the clothes weren’t just beautiful, they were from another age... everyone was wearing clothes from the Times of Dragons and the Army of the Dead.*_

_Everyone was looking toward the throne I had been studying:_

_This time there was a man sitting on the throne._

_There were large skulls of beasts surrounding him, making the throne even more impressive. He had silver hair, and... yes- purple eyes. They are definitely purple. By the way he was shifting in the seat it was undeniable that the man was not comfortable. But in a strange way, it seemed that he fed from his own unease..._

_... His eyes shone with madness._

_... His hair shivered with mistrust._

_And then he spoke, commanding everyone’s attention._

_“Bring out the prisoners.”_

_Two men were brought out. They had similar features; it was undeniable that they were from the same family. Although one was clearly older than the other. **His father perhaps?**_

_They were both tall, large, dark hair, strong shoulders that seemed to defy the chains they had been placed in._

_The man on the throne looked at them with suspicion. When he spoke, he accused them of plotting the murder of his son... his heir..._

_He called them ‘stark’.... **Stark**... **why is that word familiar**?_

_The men denied the claim. Said they only wanted their daughter - sister back._

_The man on the throne persisted – saying they were plotting... all of them... they plotting against him; though when the prisoners asked for a trial, the man on the throne agreed._

_However the next scene only brought horror to my eyes._

_The two prisoners were once again in the middle of the room, with everyone watching them._

_One of them had been placed in the middle of a large fire, the flames engulfing him, whilst the other one, bound by the neck, struggled against the leather cord, trying to help his father._

_But apart from the screams of the prisoners, no one made a sound. No one protested._

_I didn’t understand: **why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why aren’t people doing something? Why are they letting this happen**?_

_I started yelling at the crowd, as I tried to come closer to the men that were dying._

_But no one paid me any mind, as if I wasn’t even there*... and for some reason even as I took steps forward, I didn’t seem to get any closer to the men that needed help._

_Helpless, I sunk to the floor._

_As the flames engulfed the two prisoners, only the mad-man on the throne could be heard, as he laughed in glee; his eyes dancing with the flames._

_. . . . ._

_The scene changed once more._

_I was still in the same place but thankfully the mad-man with the crazy eyes wasn’t there anymore. Neither were the skulls. But the throne was still there. Still as imposing as the last scene._

_This time there was a boy in the chair._

_Looking up at him, I couldn’t help but think he looked a little ridiculous in it, as if the black swords were about to engulf him._

_He was pretty. Had shinny blond hair, his eyes were green, he wasn’t overly skinny, though there was room to grow... however it was his smirk that I didn’t like._

_Here again, there was quite a lot of people in the room. Again looking between the boy on the throne and a prisoner._

_I looked at the prisoner. He looked similar to the last two that had died. His features suggested he was closer to the father’s age._

_The boy on the throne spoke. Just like the mad-man in the previous scene, the boy accused the man of plotting against him. And again like the last scene, the boy called the man ‘stark’... why did I feel something twist inside me when as I heard that word?_

_Thankfully, the next scene was not the prisoner being burnt alive._

_The room was the same, the boy was still on the throne but the prisoner was not there. **Where is he? Has he been killed? Has he been released?** I wondered, until the sound of a person begging in front of the boy brought me back to the scene in front of me._

_It was a young girl. She looked more or less the same age as the boy. For some reason the girl looked familiar. As if I should know this girl._

_She was kneeling in front of the boy; seeming to be begging about something._

_The boy seemed to ignore her pleases however. Instead he ordered a man in a white cloak to hit her. The man hit the girl several times before he ripped her dress, showing her back._

_Like in the first vision, no one was protesting._

_I felt a tear run down my cheek._

_. . . . ._

_The scene shifted once more._

_The clothing people were wearing was more recent. But like the previous scenes, it showed another person being tortured. And again the word ‘stark’ was pronounced._

_. . . . . . ._

_Scene shifted again._

_The room was the still the same._

_Yet it was drastically different from the previous visions. For one the throne wasn’t there anymore. **Where did it go?** Instead there were a few tapestries hanging from the pillars, there were several tables and chairs on the sides._

_It looked more familiar..._

_... I definitely had been here before._

_Unlike the previous visions, the room was nearly empty. Only a dozen people or so in it._

_Looking at the occupants, I noticed that they were all wearing modern clothing. This definitely happened in today’s times._

_In the middle of the room, a man was on his knees, his hands tied behind his back. He was severely bruised, his clothes were torn, and his face supported a black eye, and a cut lip. Like the previous prisoners there was something about him that seamed familiar._

_Was it his dark hair?_

_His grey eyes?_

_I felt like I should definitely remember him... why couldn’t I?_

_However the man didn’t seem to care on his bruises. All his concentration was focused on the man in front of him. The man facing him was tall, his hair thinning but you could still note it was blonde-white. Like the boy from the previous scene, he also had green eyes._

_“I know you have her... I know you have my daughter... your grand-son kidnapped her! ... Give her back to me... give me back my Sansa.”_

_“General Stark, what makes you think we have your daughter? She has been missing for over a year. Why do you think we have her?”_

_“You’re not the only one with contacts, Lannister. I have my sources. Now give me back my daughter.”_

_“You could have filed a report. As you say you have contacts. Surely you could have contacted the city guard, or the police if you had evidence about your daughter’s kidnapping. Instead, you stormed my headquarters, attacked my security team, and got most of your men killed because of a hunch from one of your friends?”_

_The man kneeling on the floor scoffed: “Go to the police? Even I am not that foolish. You have most of the force under your thumb. Any evidence I would have brought to them would have mysteriously disappeared....It is more than a hunch... and those men didn’t have to die... you could have arrested them. But no, not you, Lannister. If they were arrested that means they could talk... and that wouldn’t be good for-“_

_-Before he could continue, the doors slammed open, and a young man-boy came in._

_“Is it true?... is he really here? Is-“_

_The boy stopped in his tracks as he noticed the prisoner. Then he grinned, his eyes gleaming. “So it is. We have Ned Stark on a leach.”_

_The prisoner, who had turned to the noise when he had first come in, started yelling at the boy: “Where is my daughter? What have you done with her? Where is Sansa?”_

_The boy’s grin grew: “Don’t worry I’m taking good care of her. I-”_

_The other older man spoke: “Joffrey be quite! Why are you even here? Where is your body guard?”_

_“GIVE ME MY DAUGHTER!” roared the man that was tied up._

_“I WA-“ he had started yelling again before one of the guards hit him on the back of the head with the butt of his gun._

_As the man dropped into unconsciousness, I screamed in shock._

_. . . . . ._

_The scene shifted once more._

_Again it was the same room. Still modern times._

_However this vision seemed more real... more vivid than the others..._

_... For some reason I felt like I had already witnessed this scene and knew what would happen..._

_... Though I couldn’t remember..._

_... **Why can’t I remember**?_

_A rather large man spoke, his gruff voice directed at the blond boy from the previous vision: “Master Joffery, perhaps we should wait for your Mr Lannister to return.”_

_The boy, still playing with the gun in his hands, his eyes gleaming at the prisoner- the same one from the last vision, scoffed: “Grandfather doesn’t understand: a dog that cannot behave should be put down.”_

_I screamed to the people that couldn’t hear me: “Nooo, please, not him... nooo ... n-not him...”_

_... For some reason I didn’t want this man to die more than the others_

_... There was something about him..._

_The boy then turned to a girl who hadn’t been in the previous vision. She stood quietly near him, her eyes shining with tears that would not fall._

_Ignoring her unshed tears, he continued to speak: “But you have always been obedient sweetheart... isn’t that right?”_

_“Y-yes Joffrey .”_

_“... Your dad wanted to take you away from me, but you don’t want that do you? You want to stay here with me... isn’t that right?”_

_“No...”_

_The blond boy frowned: “No?”_

_“No... I don’t want to leave you...I want to stay with you.”_

_The boy grinned: “That’s right my sweet. You love me. And it’s because of my love for you that I will show mercy...”_

_The young girl smiled weakly: “Th-thank you...”_

_But before anyone hand time to react, the blond boy finished his sentence:_

_“...Yes it’s because of my love for you that I will give your father a quick death.”_

_His sentence ending with a BANG from his gun and the man that had been tied falling to the floor, blood gushing from his skull..._

_As the man’s body hit the floor, I watched the girl faint, her body slumping to the side ..._

_... but before the young girl hit the floor_

_... before I could let out a scream in protest_

_... darkness enveloped me once more_

_In the darkness once more, I felt numb... my limbs this time refused to move_

_But I didn’t care._

_He was dead._

_. . . . ._

_After what seemed to be like ages, the darkness cleared once more._

_Unlike all the previous visions this one was in a different room..._

_... A circular one._

_There were two large windows bringing most of the light into the space. They were facing each other. However, what was unusual about in this arrangement was the fact that they were horizontally facing each other: one in the middle of the ceiling, a roof light, and the other in the centre of the floor._

_The two people were in the room, were both dressed in black, as if coming back from a funeral._

_The man, older, seemed to be comforting the younger woman._

_“He died so young...”_

_“Shhh my sweet Alayne, it’s alright. Yes, you are right, he died young, but he was sick most of his life. Isn’t it better to die softly in his sleep than to live suffering? Besides, he didn’t die alone, he was with you.”_

_The tear silently ran the girl’s cheek._

_The man caressed her jaw, swiping the tear away. “Sweetling, death is part of life. Everybody dies sooner or later. Don't worry about death. Worry about life. Take charge of your life for as long as it lasts.”_

_As the man continued to stroke her cheek, the girl didn’t react to his caress, positively or negatively._

_Seemingly encouraged by this, the man leaned closer._

_He briefly kissed her forehead._

_“But don’t worry sweetling, you are not alone. Robin didn’t leave you alone. You have me. You will have me.”_

_Her blue eyes raised themselves to meet his._

_She whispered weakly: “... y-you?”_

_“That’s right sweetling...you will always have me.” With that he this time kissed her cheek._

_The girl leaned a tiny bit closer to him, as if searching for further comfort. Encouraged by this, the man embraced, his arms enveloping her closer to his larger body._

_His kissed her cheek a second time._

_After caressing her cheek once more, his arms surrounding her, he continued to bring her small kisses, until he gave her a small peck on the lips._

_The girl murmured something in return. But it was unsure if it was in protest or not, as the man didn’t let her properly respond before he lips crushed hers more purposefully._

_The girl seemed to try and push him back. Unsuccessfully._

_“Petyr ... pl-please....”_

_“Shh... it’s alright sweeting... I’m here...you will never be alone.”_

_“Pl-please... no...”_

_But the man ignored her protests, grabbing her further, his lips kissing, nipping at her neck. One of his arms grabbing her breasts, whilst the other brought lifted her leg, bringing it closer, around his hip..._

_“My sweet ... sweet Cat... you will never be alone again...”_

_At the sound of the name, the girl seemed to double her effort, and pushed the man away with force._

_She growled, in such a force that it was clear that the man had not expected it:_

_“Cat only loved only one man her entire life...”_

_As the girl spoke... like the last vision I had witnessed, the next movements happen in slow motion as if I had already seen this film and had rewound it before re-studying frame by frame..._

_I noticed a knife slip from the girl’s long sleeve... her hand grabbing it... before plunging it into the man’s chest._

_“... and his name was Ned...”_

_Before the man truly realised what had happened, she took out the blade from his chest, and thrust it once more higher in his left breast._

_After that everything went quite once more._

_Then I felt something shift next to me in the darkness._

_Finally feeling something in the darkness I felt safe._

 

 

After a few moments, I was able to open my eyes.

My eyes met grey ones.

I remembered those eyes.

 

I spoke: “Ned?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * in these dreams wanted to be a bit like the ‘visions’ people get in the Harry Potter franchise when they use Dumbledore's Pensieve. i.e: you can see everything that is happening but no one can see you.
> 
> * Time of dragons – was thinking in Westeros they wouldn’t call it the Middle ages – they would call it the Time of Dragons (or the Times of the Army of the Dead), which included Aegon the Conquer, and some of the events that happened in ASIF.


	20. Chapter 18 - Forgotten Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of last chapter, Sansa trying to remember who she is, after waking up from her fever.

 

**???/???**

 

 

She looked into the grey eyes.

“Ned?”

 

The man with the grey eyes in front of her pulled back from her at the sound of the name that had come from her lips, his brows frowning in confusion.

As he moved back and let go of her, she remembered the dreams, and realised her mistake... He was Ned but he wasn't. He looked... _younger_?... yes, Ned was older...

She tried to remember the dream. That right: Ned was older... And he was dead... An incredible amount of sadness rushed into her. _But why_?

... There was something else... something else about Ned that she was missing...

 

As she continued to stare at this man, she slowly returned to consciousness. Her eyes were heavy, her limbs like lead.

 

_What happened to me_?

 

She searched through her mind, her hands running through her face and hair. She was disoriented...trying to remember the dreams, trying to remember ...

 

_Who was she?... who was she before the dreams... before_ ...?

 

The man, probably sensing her disorientation, and her growing panic, put his hand gently on her arm, and calmly spoke to her:

“Lyanna calm down. Everything is alright. You are safe.” She shook her head in response, even though the hand touching her had somewhat of a calming quality to it, it wasn’t enough compared to everything that was running through her mind... or lack of things that should be running through her mind.

She couldn’t stop shaking her head, looking down at her legs sitting on the bed, through her hands.

_No – no ... this was all wrong_...

This didn’t feel right. The man spoke like he knew her, and was trying to reassure her, but something was off in what he had said. But she wasn’t getting any kind of ‘danger’ feeling from him. He sounded genuine.

“Lyanna... please... everything is ok.” He said as he started to rub her arm in circular motions. “Here have some water to drink.”

 

Then she realised was wrong. – _Lyanna_... That wasn't her name. _Why is he calling me Lyanna_?

She stuttered, trying to speak, her mouth dry: “Stop ... Stop calling m-me that ... It's not my name.”  


There was a long pause. Such a long pause that she wondered if he had heard her. Then he spoke. Looking into her eyes, he spoke softly to her, his voice full of questions: “A- Alayne?”

Suddenly, at the sound of the name, her body reacted before she fully understood what she was doing: grabbing the man she flung him over the edge of the bed on to the ground. With no weapons at her disposal she grasped him at the throat and squeezed.

With a fury she didn’t know she had in her, her subconscious hissed words that she didn’t understand: “Don't. Do. Not. Ever. Call me that name.”

Fortunately for the man and unfortunately for her, she was still quite disoriented... and he was larger than her. He easily and quickly loosened her grip on him, and flipped them over, this time him caging her between his impressive biceps.

_BAM_!

Suddenly, the door of the room burst open and another man ran in, gun in hand, ready to shoot. Taking a moment to let the scene in front of him sink in, he smirked and looked at the other guy: “Bae... am I interrupting something? Everything okay here? I heard noises... and came to investigate. Maybe I should-“

The other man growled: “Obe, just help me up ...and her will you... think she is experiencing some sort of amnesia...Bloody attacked me for no reason.”

 

As the man started to stand up, and the other, tanner man, came forward. She ignored his comment, her eyes going between the two men. _Bae_... the other man had called him that but, like what he had called her previously, it didn’t seem right. She frowned. And _Obe_...? _What kind of a name was that_?

 

She had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t realised she was now sitting on the floor, and the two grown men were standing looking down at her. It was the silence surrounding her and her thoughts that made her realise that they were looking at her, waiting for something. Expecting her to do something? _Lash out like she had done not 5 minutes ago_?

The tanner man of the two – _the Not-Ned-one_ \- spoke softly: “Ms Winters...do you know,... remember who you are... who we are?”

She didn’t respond, just looked from one to the other, like a scared animal, who had been cornered by a pack of wolves.

 

Pulling his friend back a bit, the Ned-one whispered to his friend, but not low enough for her not to hear – _Well apparently I have very good hearing_ -: “She called me Ned... and she said her name wasn’t Lyanna...then she went ballistic when I called her Alayne.”

 

_Alayne_...

 

Her mind obviously hated that name. Her brain started to buzz when hearing it again. She slowly closed her eyes, controlling herself, and then she remembered. She remembered the last dream. But she remembered it differently. – Like it was a memory...

_She_ had been Alayne. But a long time ago. No one had called her Alayne since... since _Baelish_... since sweet little Robin, and Petyr Baelish.

Now she remembered the scene like it was yesterday. Not like the dream, but as though she had lived it. Well she had lived it... _Petyr Baelish_ ... the first man she had ever killed. The bastard had killed his wife, then he had killed sweet Robin, and then he had put his hands on her...

... Her body shivered at the memory.

 

Soft words brought her back to the present.

 

“Ms Winters... My name is Oberyn Martell, and this here is Baelon Targaryen. Y-you are Lyanna Winters. We all work for Targaryen Corporation. You work with Mr Targaryen here, in the Northern Branch... in Wintertown. We were all in a train accident-“

“-Boltons... the Freys and the Boltons.” She interrupted him, remembering the day before.

The two men looked at her in both shock and relief. “You remember?”

She slowly nodded as she replied: “starting too...”

 

From the memory of killing Petyr and then when Oberyn Martell had started to speak, her mind had started remembering things.

She had killed Petyr... Jacquen had found her... he had given her a new name... a new life... a new purpose...

_Mercedene_... that was her name now...

.... She now worked for Targaryen Corporation... but she truly worked for the House of Black and White... but she didn’t trust either...

... Bolton... _Roose_ Bolton. He was a dangerous man. A man people could easily fear and mistrust... but there was more to him than that. She felt hate... pure hate at the name Bolton... and Frey...

 

**_Bip...bip-bip... bip-bip..._ **

 

Noise from the main common room brought all three on high alert. Both men went for their guns, as Mercedene realised what the _bipping_ was.

“Its the security boundaries. The outside sensors have picked up some movement.” She explained at the same time as she remembered, moving past the two men, and towards the security monitors that were turned on.

Pointing at the screens, she confirmed what she had just told them: “Look.”

All three looked at the computer screens showing what was happening outside, through the several hidden cameras placed around the different abandoned houses and barns.

 

There on the monitor they saw no less than twenty men getting out of three large RV’s.

Mercedene recognised a few of them: namely Ramsay, Damon , Grunt, Luton, Little Walder and Big Walder Frey. The men started looking through all the different buildings            

 

Baelon Targaryen spoke: “Let’s be glad that the snow covered our tracks...”

Mercedene spoke with confidence: “They won’t find this place... even if they had found out where it was, they would need to know where the door is and the security codes, or drill down through 2 meters of concrete, with 5 grills of steel reinforcing it.

A sad though went through her mind: _What if they found Harry and questioned him_? _Tortured and flayed him_?

 

Her eyes went to the monitors once more, straight onto Ramsay Bolton. Mercedene might not have all her memory back but she sure could remember the atrocities she had read that Ramsay had done.

_Had **he** whipped me? ... _ Is that why she felt such hatred for the Boltons? Had they tortured her years ago? Surely Roose Bolton would have recognised her when he hired her as his PA? ...

A cold dread ran threw her spine then: _What if he had recognised me and this was all part of one long, sick, twisted game? All this time I have been a mouse he and his fucked-up son had been playing with?_

As several scenarios played out in her mind, the three of them continued watching the monitors. After a moment it seemed clear that the Freys and Boltons didn’t know about their hiding spot: they had probably come here because it was the closest buildings in the vicinity of the train wreck.

 

After the RV’s disappeared, probably to search for them somewhere else, they sat down at the table, and discussed what had happened to each of them after the explosion – of course Mercedene left out the part about being with Harry, or that she was with House of Black and White.

“...As I said before, the Bolton and Frey have been working together; forging stocks, ... and one of the ways they did that was through Bolton’s use of me...”

Oberyn frowned: “You?”

Mercedene replied looking at Baelon: “They used me to distract you – not intentionally on my part.... Roose Bolton wanted to use your obvious attraction for me to his advantage.” Sighing, she continued: “One of the reasons I started dating Harry was in hope that you would start looking elsewhere, or not pay more attention to what Roose was doing.”

Baelon growled at the comment: “I was paying attention – I wasn’t thinking with my dick!”

Mercedene looked at him sceptically, whilst Oberyn couldn’t help but grin: “Really?”

Baelon ignored the comment, and Oberyn: “Why didn't you tell me? Warn me?”

Mercedene looked down at her hands resting on the table, answering slowly: “First I didn't trust you... and wasn’t sure how interested you really were in me. I know your reputation around women... I also didn't want the risk of Bolton catching up on the fact that I was spying on him-“

Baelon couldn’t help but interrupt: “-Why were you spying on him in the first place?”

“I have my reasons as you have yours.”

 

 

\- - - - - - - -

JON/BAELON

 

 

They had continued to chat about the attack, the Freys and Boltons and the Northern Branch of TC till they had all gotten hungry around mid-day. After lunch, Lyanna, still recovering from her wound and fever, had gone to rest.

Jon wanted to question her some more, but had let it go because he knew he probably wouldn’t get much from her in the state she was in.

Although she still hadn’t answered any personal questions or anything about who she was working for, Lyanna had given them a proper tour of the compound, showing them a few hidden rooms that they had missed when they had first looked through the place.

At one point she had also sent an encrypted message on one of the two phones, and had let them use the other to text – _No Calls_ \- people they trusted.

Of course that had been after both Oberyn and him had promised to not disclose anything about where they were or who they were with. - Baelon had been tempted to retort that neither Obe nor him had a clue where they were, and even less of a clue who she really was, but then thought it best to hold his tongue.

 

So now as they waited for either Lyanna to pop by with news, or the phone they had used to reply, he was in one of the ‘training rooms’, doing hand-to-hand combat with Oberyn.

“So what do you think of the situation?” Bae huffed to Oberyn, after avoiding a kick to the shoulder.

Oberyn replied with a grin: “Well... it’s definitely not boring.”

Baelon frowned, thinking of the train attack, and probably all his colleagues that were dead: “This is definitely not a laughing matter Obe. I’m serious: what have Dany and you’ve been cooking up?”

Getting more annoyed, he continued his interrogations his fist landing a punch in Oberyn’s chest: “If Dany and you had shared more of your information, this fucking attack might have been avoided.”

This time it was Oberyn’s turn to get aggravated: “Like all the information you have shared with us?”

_Kick...punch... shift to the right... knee to crotch_...

“I’ve shared more with you than you have with me. Dany probably gets more information from my security team than I do!”

... They continued to argue as they continued to fight until they both fell on the mat exhausted. Although he was still angry with his ‘uncle’, Baelon was relieved that they had cleared the air about TC, and they were both starting to think of a solution to the problem with the Freys and Boltons.

 

... However, there was still one matter he had to discuss with Oberyn.

Panting, he lifted his body upper from the mat and looked over at his friend: “So... what do you think of our mystery woman?”

Looking up at the ceiling, Oberyn grinned: “You are like two dogs going after the same bone... two idiots that should fuck but for some reason aren’t.”

Baelon growled in frustration: “Trust me, that’s definitely not because of me.”

After a pause, Oberyn replied more seriously: “The girl clearly hasn’t had the best life. Most definitely has a few trust issues. But on the plus side, she’s decided – at least for the moment- to work with us and not the Boltons and Freys.”

“You call that working _with_ us?”

“Well... maybe not _with_ , but at least she’s not killing us. And, in any case she definitely feels something for you. Whether she chooses to repress it or not, whether its lust, love or a more friendly feeling, I can sense she feels some sort of connection to you... it’s clear as day... just need to get her to trust you.”

_\- don’t I know it._

 

As they continued to lie there, Baelon thought on what Oberyn had just told him. When Oberyn had confirmed that Lyanna felt something for him, his chest had soared. However when he had continued with saying her feelings might just be ‘ _friendly’_ Baelon couldn’t help but grind his teeth. - _Hell No! Definitely more than friendly feelings_!

He also got annoyed when he remembered her calling him ‘ _Ned’_. - _Who the fuck was Ned_?

 

Reinvigorated from the talk, Baelon stood up and walked out of the room, needing to clear a few things with **_his_ ** mystery girl.

 

. . . . . . . . .

 

He knocked at the door, and a soft voice answered.

 

Walking into the room, he saw Lyanna on sitting in the large chair, a file in her hand. She closed it has he moved further in the room.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

 

They continued with the pleasantries for a little longer before Baelon couldn’t help but ask: “Lyanna...W-we, Oberyn and I, when we took care of your wound last night... we saw, we saw the scars on your back...”

Blue eyes stared at him but she didn’t say anything.

Through the silence, he continued: “Can you tell me what happened?"

Her lips thinned as she shook her head. "It’s not a pleasant story."

“We are stuck in the middle of nowhere, our train was blown up, we have been shot at, most of my security team probably dead and we are about to freeze to death, anything else at this point would be a pick me up.*”

 

She didn’t respond, prompting Baelon to ask: “Does the scars have anything to do with why you have a gun…. Or to do with Alayne Stone?”

She quickly turned back to him in shock, and demanded: “How do you know that name?”

He tried to keep his voice calm as he replied: “Please Lyanna… or Alayne or whoever you really are … you can tell me… you can trust me…”

“Tell me how you know that name?”

He lied: “My security team did a background check on the Bolton team.”

Lyanna’s eyes narrowed. He could see the hurt as much as the anger growing inside her: “Really… your security team?”

After a pause, she continued: “You say I can trust you?”

He nodded in response, hoping the conversation was finally getting somewhere.

“... and who exactly should I trust?... Baelon Targaryen ...or Jon Snow?”

 

He took two steps back in shock – _how did she...?_

Her eyes glowed: “That’s right. I’m not the only one with dirty little secrets.”

Jon didn’t know what to respond. No one had called him Jon Snow in the last ten years apart from his friends from the Night’s Watch.

The last person outside the Night’s Watch to call him Jon Snow was... _Ygritte_... as she had died in his arms...

_‘You know nothing Jon Snow’_

 

He shook his head, trying to push down the memory:

“No your are just evading the question, the problem: You and I both know that _Lyanna Winters_ doesn’t exist… we are both in danger of being killed… you have scars on your back … you have a gun, and apparently are able to kill a man twice your size … maybe it’s time to share a bit of the mystery that is Alayne Stone.”

 

_Wam_!

 

Jon fell back as he had been punched right in the face.

As he looked back up, still disorientated, he saw her standing over him. She was angry – _furious_. Her eyes were glowing, her cheeks were red, her lips thin and white:

“I warned you ...Don’t. Ever. Say that name to me again!”

 

And then she walked out the door.

 

Ygritte’s voice spoke: _‘You know nothing Jon Snow’_

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

Mercedene walked trhough the compound, getting as far from Baelon Targaryen as possible.

 

She was furious.

 

She hated him... he kept on pushing her... asking her questions... making her feel...feel things she didn't want to feel... and he kept on calling her that name... the name Petyr had called her...

She was furious also because she still couldn’t remember...

There was something important... a _key_... that her brain wouldn’t let her remember...

How could she tell him that she still couldn’t tell him about the scars because she couldn’t remember everything... least of all how she got those scars.

 

Pacing in another room, trying to remember, her phone beeped.

– A message from Jacquen

**_Things are being sorted. Stay where you are_**.

**_Will retrieve you by tomorrow_ **

 

After reading the message, and replying she started pacing again. The whole day... the whole week... the whole thing running through her mind.

 

Suddenly she stopped pacing. With a sudden jolt her mind had remembered.

She remembered the other dreams, the ones before Baelish... the ones in _that_ room...

...the word

...No... the name...

... _stark_

.... She was a stark _.... Sansa Stark_...

... and tomorrow Jacquen would be here and with him he would bring life and reality ...

... Roose Bolton, and Walder Frey had made their move... and now that she remembered, she knew what that meant... what it meant for her. It was time for her to put her plan into action.

Stopping in the middle of the room, her chest was going up and down, with the extent of the realisation hitting her.

... _tomorrow_... tomorrow her plan would truly start.

The decision made, she opened her door, went back down the hall, and knocked at the door.

 

Jon opened. She noticed that his eye was already starting to swell where she had hit him.

 

Her chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked.

For a few seconds, Sansa stared at Jon as if she didn’t know how she’d gotten to be there facing him. “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Fuck tomorrow."

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 19 – Offerings and Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> between now and tomorrow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are sensitive to hot/steamy scenes be warned: Mature Rating definitely applies to this chapter.
> 
> For those who do not mind/like steamy scenes, hope the chapter lives up to your expectations...

 

JON / BAELON

 

 

Stilled dazed from the punch he had received about 15 minutes ago, Jon was laying on the ground thinking about everything to do with Lyanna when he heard a knock at the door.

He slowly stood up, and opened it.

 

_Lyanna_

 

Her chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Concerned, Jon asked: “Are you okay?”

For a few seconds, she stared at him in mystification, which only confused him more.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes had a frantic hunger in them. “Fuck tomorrow.”

 

Before he could process those two words, her warm hands cupped his face and brought Jon’s mouth to her’s. A low groan from the back of her throat vibrated down his, and Jon caught it with a deep intake of breath. After the moment it took Jon to process what was happening, he pressed his chest against Sansa’s breasts as he pushed her back into the room. The door closed behind him.

Taking over, his mouth, hot and wet, devoured Lyanna’s, his tongue circling the inside almost desperately. Jon this time didn’t hold back: this kiss was far more intense than the last time. This was different; a prelude to something more.

He stopped kissing Sansa for a moment, sliding his hands from her face down the length of her neck. He pulled Sansa’s hair, bending her neck back. He sucked on the base before kissing his way back up. He didn’t smile. He just looked at her intently.

Jon could feel her pulse pounding, her body trembling…

He knew he should ask her if this was really what she wanted. She had just had just as much of a fucked-up few days as he had, probably more.

He should ask her.

But he couldn’t.

Fuck being noble... honourable... he was probably just like his father.... giving into lust...

 

He pressed his body against hers, his arousal against her stomach as his lips captured hers once more.

He couldn’t stop tasting her... he wanted to taste _all_ of her...

He slowly started kissing down her small form, from her lips to her neck; his hands tore the shirt she was wearing as his lips closed in on their next destinations... her beautiful perky breast.

Pushing the lace fabric of her bra aside, he nuzzled her right breast as his hand fondling her left breast.

His teeth gently scraped her hardened nipple before his lips sucked the whole of her areola.

 

_Gods ... this is heaven... she is heaven... perfect ... and she is all mine to taste_...

 

He softly blew on the hardened nipple before moving from her right breast. He gave as much enthusiasm and pleasure to her left one before his lips continued their journey further down.

He kissed her ribs... each one a small but sensuous kiss, as he could feel her body shaking, her heart beating, her breathing erratic...

Passing her ribs, he reached her belly-button. Looking at the small area at the centre of her stomach, he couldn’t help but lick it... lick it and taste her beautiful porcelain skin... suck it, delving his tongue in her belly button...

_Will have more time for it later... for now more pressing matters_...

He moved further down...

 

Slowly unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down, Jon forced himself to breathe.

He had had many women... women usually throwing themselves at him. Most had worn very sexy, lacy lingerie, similar to the creations Ellaria Sand sold in her high-end fashion store... but nothing... _nothing_ could compare to the sight in front of him now.

He saw the simple white cotton panties she wore underneath and nearly came right then and there.

Instead Jon let his face mould itself to them, inhaling her sent through them. He could smell her arousal... she was wet... under those demure white nothings he could feel, smell, hear her ... the lust coming from her.

He couldn’t help it: he bit her softly through the cotton.

_Ahh_!

A soft yelp from her lips reminded him of his mission... reminded him of how long he had waited for this... reminded him this would be the first of many, many explorations of her body... he would make sure of it.

He looked up front between her thighs, and his eyes met blue ones.

“Pleasee Baee....”

“Call me Jon. Only Jon.”

“Pleaaseee Jon...” The blue eyes begged once more.

 

Keeping his eyes one hers, his hands slowly trailed up her perfectly smooth legs until they reached the side of the white underwear.

As his finger griped the material, Jon only paused for a moment. He would not ask, he was too powerless to ask, but still a part of him had been able to stop himself at least for a moment. This was the only moment he would give her before he devoured her.

But no protest came.

 

The eyes just continued to stare at him.

 

Hi finger moved the soft material down, tracing her legs at the same time, and it was only once they had reached the ground that he broke eye contact.

Then his eyes fell to what was right in front of him.

As his lips pressed against her centre, he felt her hands move her nails softly scratching his neck before her fingers lightly caress his cheek, and then delves into his hair. Then she twisted her fingers in Jon’s hair, pulling gently...

 

_Damn, that feels good_...

 

Jon groaned against her public bone. He couldn’t stop himself from moving slightly away from her – re-trying to get control – and lifted her, placing her on the bed.

Unable to stay away for too long, Jon hovered over her, more specifically over where he had last been. He nipped her hip bone, as her hands fisted his hair once more.

He nipped and sucked lower. She writhed beneath him.

 

Looking up, Jon saw that her eyes were now closed, her mouth was slack... _panting_.

 

Moving his lips back down, Jon grinned, even as his jeans become extremely uncomfortable. – _Time for that later... her first_....

He spread her legs wider and softly blew on the wet red swollen lips presented to him. Encouraged by her squirming, he gently placed his thumb at their juncture, rolling it with the skin, circling slowly. Then he leaned in and sucked – _hard_.

Her body bowed again, as she cried out. But Jon didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. She started to whimper.

“ahhh ... Jooonnn... pleeeasssseeee... n-no.. no more...”

Again, Jon ignored her pleas and continued his lascivious assault – she was close, he could feel it, taste it... “Let go...”

 

And she did: she cried out as she climaxed.

 

Unable to hold himself any longer, Jon quickly removed his clothes in record time, and looked at the laying naked form in front of him.

She looked like a lamb presented to a sacrifice. A lamb ready and willing to be devoured by the wolf.

 

Control slipping, Jon covered her naked body with his, and after a second of her eyes meeting his, he thrust into her.

For a brief moment, he felt a resistance. In confusion he looked down at her face. But he only saw her arching her body and pulling her head back in ecstasy as she welcomed him within her.

Bringing her head back down, Lyanna then looked up him so tenderly. She brought her upper body closer to his and captured his lips with her own.

Needing no more encouragement he continued his attack... going deeper within her more slowly. She was so tight, so perfect.

His restrain wasn't at its best - especially from the feel of her and the noises she was animating... and from the movements of her hips - and soon enough his thrusts became more urgent, his hands caressing and holding on to her more deeply, his lips on her lips, on her neck, on her breasts... becoming more demanding.

His need to possess her fully becoming overwhelming. She was _his_ , only his.

That was his last thought before it all became too much and he exploded within her.

 

Panting, Jon laid on top of her, unable to move, feeling drained.

 

Finally after what seemed like hours, he shifted to the side, pulling her into his arms as he did so. A small huff of satisfaction was the only response he heard from her, as she wrapped her arm around him.

Through the silence he felt her heart beat slow down, and her breathing becoming subdued. She had fallen asleep in his arms.

Jon couldn’t help but smile. - _His_ Lyanna... his beautiful Lyanna was finally in his arms, and nothing seemed more perfect.

Smiling, he placed a soft kiss on her brow, and tried to fall asleep as well. – He would probably need the rest for when they woke up and definitely did a repeat of what had just happened.

 

It was then, as he was closing his eyes, that he remembered the pause, the hesitation when his body had first joined with hers.

In a jolt his inner-body sprang upright. Only by cheer willpower had he not actually jumped up from under Lyanna’s arms.

 

_A virgin_!

She had been a fucking virgin!

 

But that was impossible! ... How could this be possible?!

Jon’s mind raced: there had been Podrick ... and Harry ... and what about Tyrion?... and Bolton ... ?

He groaned as his mind continued to race: _Gods! I fucking accused her of being with half the office when she had been purer than the first snow of winter_...

_But how is this possible_?

_Lyanna’s virginity makes no sense: there was no way in hell she ~~is~~ \- had been - a virgin, the very thought is ludicrous. She has always been very passionate with everything she has done; from her work in the company, to refusing me repeatedly, to saving our asses on the train, to refusing to reveal anything about herself to me... and let’s not forget the fact that she is a beauty that is ~~almost~~ irresistible. How could she have possibly been a virgin?_

He looked at the body lying next to his.

She fit so perfectly next to him, as if they had been made to fit together. What had transpired only moments ago only proved that more. She had felt so right in his arms, him moving within her. Her body responding so perfectly to his.

 

It didn’t make sense. Even without all the other men, she was beautiful, plus there was a passion within her, she was so ... _fiery_ …

Jon remembered the free-folks’ saying: _Kissed by fire_. Her hair wasn’t fully red but the chestnut mane had enough of a ruby glow to it for the phrase to apply to her – she was full of fire… _a fire that only I have experienced_...

Jon couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the revelation.

 

As he continued to ponder he felt stirring below him. He looked down to see two blue orbs looking back at him.

“Is everything ok? … Did you hear anything?” She asked with a worried looking, raising her head, and looking around the room to check for herself.

“No… nothing is out of place.”

She looked back at him in confusion: “so … what’s wrong? Your body is tense.”

Looking straight into her eyes with a mix of tenderness and confusion, he couldn’t stop himself from asking: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He felt her body go stiff next to his, proving that she knew straight away what he was refereeing to. Nevertheless, looking away, she fained ignorance: “Tell you what? … There was nothing to tell?”

“Lyanna… you were a virgin… why didn’t you tell me?... I would have-“

“Have what?!... Even if I had told you, would you have believed me?” She retorted angrily, now looking right at him. “You made it no secret what you thought of me…. Thought you were going to be just another one to finally sample Bolton’s bitch?!”

Now it was Jon’s turn to be angry: “No! Never! I never thought that of you! And you know it!”

“Funny way of showing it, or do you not remember what you yelled at me not a week ago!”

“That’s because I was drunk, jealous ...mad at you! At myself!”

“Yes but that didn’t stop you from basically calling me a whore, and saying that I was no more than a sexual siren, that your physical needs for me had been such a torment to you for nearly a year, as if it was my fault that you couldn’t stop thinking with your dick!”

“No Lyanna that’s not what I meant! Not what I meant then and not what I meant now!

Gods Lya! Don’t you realise: I love you! I probably loved you from the first moment I saw you: you walking into that room made me feel something I hadn’t felt in so long… ever since ...

… You should have told me because I would have made it better for you, I shouldn’t have forced myself upon you. I would have done it more gently… treated you like you were supposed to be treated...”

Slowly she caressed his cheek looking into his tortured eyes – tortured soul:

“You didn’t take anything I didn’t willingly offer… you didn’t force yourself upon me. Do you not remember it was me who jumped you, not the other way round? I wanted you. I still want you. I have always wanted you. That’s why I have always gone to someone else. You scared me; you made me feel things I had never felt before.

I couldn’t hide who I really was from you. That’s why I couldn’t be with you. Because I knew I couldn’t hide from you…

And I came to you tonight because I couldn’t lie to myself any longer… I couldn’t hide from myself or from you … because I knew that I couldn’t go on one more moment without you knowing how much I cared about you, even though I shouldn’t.” She confessed before pressing her lips gently on his.

 

This time, when Jon took her, he was gentle as he burrowed himself deep inside her, holding her close to him. He held her tight for a moment, she felt so damned good, he was sure he could stay inside her forever. Being nestled within her felt like pure heaven, and he was experiencing something he’d never felt before.

 

After lying back down in content, holding her in his arms, where she should be, Jon remembered something she said.

“What did you mean: ‘ _eventhough I shouldn’t_ ’ ?”

Sighing she replied with a soft chuckle: “Because, Baelon Targaryen, you’ll be the death of me…as I said before my feelings for you scare me: when I’m around you I can’t help but show my trueself to you.”

Looking into her eyes, Jon prompted: “and that’s bad?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Has this anything to do with Alayne Stone?”

He felt her body tense below him, but she gave him no other response.

“Lya… I know you hate when I bring up that name-“

“-So don’t bring-“

He softly pressed his fingers onto her mouth:

“Please let me finish: I know you hate hearing that name… I also know that Lyanna isn’t your real name… whoever you were before I don’t care I will still love you. All I care about is the future, a future with the both of us…. But it seems that if our future is to survive we have to resolve our past… both our pasts. And the best way to move forward is to share everything with each other.

I love you Lya… nothing… Nothing you say will change that – although I hope by the Gods you are not secretly my sister….”

Sansa weakly smiled at the joke, looking at him silently as he continued.

“Please Lya… please trust me... Please tell me what haunts you… and whatever you need to know about me, feel free to ask.”

 

There was a long silence after his declaration. It dragged on for so long that Jon feared that she had closed off like she always eventually did.

 

Then she shifted.

“My name is not Lyanna Winters… but you already know that. I only took that name when I started working for Targaryen Corp.”

“Why did you apply for a job at Targaryen Corp?”

Jon felt her body tense. He stared into the ghostly orbs facing him. “Please … tell me. You can trust me: we are both on the same side…”

“I… I … I haven’t been called Alayne Stone in the last eight years. When I was sixteen, my name became Mercedene Black.”

Jon was about to reply, when she placed her fingers on his mouth to stop him.

“Mercedene Black works for the House of Black and White, who, eight-nine months ago placed her in a team with three other members, to go to Winter Town, and join Targeryen Corporation.”

Jon moved back in shock, staring at her: “You are part of my surveillance team!”

Lyanna shook her head, and replied: “No… _you_ were never part of _my_ mission… _my_ mission was _Roose Bolton_.”

“So… you were placed as Bolton’s PA-“

“- to scout on him. The more innocent and sweet people think you are, the most surprised they're going to be when you kill them.”

“Kill them? You… you weren’t just there to survey him?”

With a sigh, Lyanna explained:

“Jacquen is the leader: he spied, surveyed, made sure everything was going well, and made sure the team did their job. Sandor was there to protect you above all else. Harry’s was to spy- gathered as much information as possible… about everything and everyone… mine was to survey but ultimately I’ve always only ever had one job: I’m an assassin. I’m a killer, I killed for the first time when I was sixteen, and haven’t stopped since. That’s what I do best, and I leave the rest mostly to the others.”

After a long moment, Jon still processing, commented on what had stuck out the most: “Sixteen?” – Even he had been older when he had killed his first White Walker.

“…When I was sixteen, my foster father tried to rape me, I stuck a knife in his chest to protect myself.”

“H-How did you go from being a would-be rape victim to an assassin? … You have to acknowledge that most girls in that situation would have a different path…why didn’t go to someone for help?”

 

Lyanna moved further away from him, and turned her back to him:

“It hadn’t been the first time I had been confronted by the true violence of the world. Beforehand, I saw my true father die in front of me. By the guy who had proclaimed his love for me no less.

This same fiancée enjoyed inflicting pain: ‘ _breaking their spirit_ ’ that’s what he called it. He tortured me. He started on me exactly eleven years, three months and two days ago. Since then I haven’t had much trust in people.

Still- I followed someone I thought I could trust. Later, when I thought I was finally free, it was this new ‘ _protector’_ who, this time, tried to abuse me.

These moments with my fiancée, with my new ‘father’ are not part of my past: they are still happening, every day, every time I close my eyes. Every time I feel someone behind me, and I don't know who it is. How is it that I get an almost irresistible urge to kill anyone who happens to touch me unexpectedly? Tell me, Jon, how do I forget, something that is still happening, that keeps happening over and over? _How_? How do I do that?

Well…to answer your question: it was sitting above _his_ body that Jaquen found me. He took me away from the house, from _that man_. His life promised me a way for me to find some control of my life, a way to protect myself, a way for me not to have anymore nightmares.

Within the year, I had fully joined the House of Black and White, and barely seventeen I killed for a second time. By the time I was twenty I had killed over 30 different people, including some of those who had harmed my family.

I joined Targaryen Corp because it was my mission. It has been my part of a mission I started when I was sixteen.”

 

**\- - - - - - - - -**

 

SANSA/ LYANNA/ MERCEDENE

 

 

There was a long pause after her confession. Such a long pause that she wondered if she had gone too far, revealed too much about herself.

She had never revealed that much to anyone. Given so much of herself to anyone. She had told him so much but even here, with him now, she couldn’t reveal all, bare all to him. – _Not Sansa..._

Especially when he had still to show more of himself to her.

 

Finally he spoke... spoke words that made her love and hate him at the same time:

“Come to Kings Landing with me, you’ll be safe, my family will protect you. You don’t have to hide any longer.”

 

She closed her eyes in frustration.

How could she tell him, explain to him that _that_ place was where all her hell had started. That she still had to hide. She still had so much to hide. That both of them were still in danger, no matter how much money and power he thought he had.

Instead she kissed him once more before lying down next to him, and closing her eyes.

 

She closed her eyes knowing that tomorrow, Sansa Stark would wake up. Knowing that Sansa Stark wasn’t ready to reveal herself fully to Baelon Targaryen or Jon Snow yet. Knowing that Sansa Stark couldn’t be here when Jacquen came...

 

Sansa Stark fell asleep knowing that in a couple of hours or so of rest, she would leave, escape into the night…

Jon Snow fell asleep not knowing that in a few hours he would wake up alone…

 


	22. Chapter 20 – Aftermath and a Chain of Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weeks following Baelon and Oberyn's rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing of business and finance, so if I used the terms wrong, or wrote something bad in terms of business and finance I apologise in advance.

 

JON/ BAELON

 

 

Baelon moved from his overcrowded desk to the window, needing a break.

 

The sky was dark, as evening had already descended with the winter hours. Snow started to fall and it didn’t seem like it would be stopping anytime soon. With the coming precipitation, he wasn’t able to distinguish much of what was happening outside.

Not that he was actually paying any attention to what might be going on in the streets below. It wasn’t out there that the Sevens Hells were descending. It was inside him.

 _Three_ weeks of torment...

Three weeks of people asking him questions...

Three weeks of trying to sort of the mess of the train wreckage...

Three weeks since he had left the North...

Three weeks since had seen _her_...

 

Three weeks since _she_ had left him in the middle of the night without as much as a note...

 

Three weeks ago both Baelon and Oberyn had been rescued from the safe-house. The House of Black and White rescue team had been slowed down by the constant fall of snow in addition to the thick white blanket already on the ground, but once they had arrived, the team had been quick in moving them to a better secure location.

Both men had been brought to Riverrun, where they had first been checked for any possible injuries or trauma. Then there had been the de-briefings. Both _Westeros Home Land Security_ as well as the _House of Black and White_ had spent several hours questioning them. Baelon discussed in detail, gone through each and every moment, of what had happened from the train departure at the station back in White Harbor to the rescue team arriving at the safe house.

It was only after the process complete that he had been able to see his family. Danaerys, Rhaenys, and Aegon, who had come back from his honeymoon when the train had been attacked, all greeted him, as well as Ellaria and all of Oberyn’s daughters.

Both Dany and Rhaenys had been in tears when they had seen him, unable to stop them from embracing him quite tightly. Oberyn, on the other hand, had been slapped across the face by his lover for ‘ _being stupid enough to be in the train_ ’, as if he should have known that there was going to be an attack.

His next visitors had been a bit of a surprise, however. Both Bran and Rickon Stark had also come to see him, accompanied by three others. Two of them he recognised as being Howland Reed’s children, and the third seemed to be a sort of companion for Rickon.

With his family and friends worrying over him and making sure he was alive and well, it wasn’t until the Saturday, three days after their rescue, that Baelon was able to receive proper news about the state of the train-wreckage, as well as news about his own personal security team.

It had been gut-retching to hear of the on-going reports about the attack. Several dead had already been indentified, including Wendel Manderly and Jon Umber Jr., others were severely injured, and many were still missing, as the rescue teams were still looking through the rumble and what was left of the train.

As for his own team: even now Sandor Clegane was still in a coma, with an unknown if he was going to make it, Harry had suffered several wounds including a deep one from a knife and a bullet wound, but at least was finally conscious. Jaquen H’ghar was the only one standing but even he had a broken arm and several new scars on his face.

 

Sighing in resignation, Baelon looked back at his office.

On the table he could see several files from Targaryen Corp as well as records from House of Black and White, the Nights Watch, and the Ministry of Defence. In addition to those, several newspapers were scattered, with three from this morning at the top of the pile with their titles visible: ‘ ** _The Targaryens losing a few Dragons?_ ’**, ‘ ** _The Twins cursed? First the Starks now the Targaryens’, ‘Has the Dragon Bastard truly been hiding funds?- Baelon Targaryen called to speak to the Westerosi Finance Commission’_**...

 

His life was a mess. His family and company were facing both personal and business crises. The Northern Branch – his own branch- was facing most of the scrutiny and bereavement that had followed the tragic incident three weeks ago.

 

But all this was secondary to one person still missing, officially presumed dead.

_Her_

He couldn’t even say her name... he still didn’t know it.

He had looked at the House of Black and White file for ‘Lyanna Winters’, the ones relating to ‘Mercedene Black’, and even all the information they had on ‘Alayne Stone’... Yet there was nothing from the time before Petyr Baelish had brought her to the Eyrie to meet her (possible) mother.

She was still a mystery. His mystery.

 

It had snowed most of the night in which they had slept together, as well as most of the morning, covering any trace of the direction she might have been headed in. Weapons and supplies had been missing from the wall and the store room, but there had been no other indications of her departure - not even a note.

_What kind of a fool leaves a warm bed in the dead of the night?...in a snow storm?...with a fresh wound?..._

 

As his eyes fell automatically on a picture of ‘Lyanna Winters’ that was lying on his desk, Baelon thought back to his earlier visit at the hospital.

 

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**_Earlier that day – Riverrun Military Hospital_ **

 

The two men from his new security team waited outside the patient’s room as Baelon went in alone. As he closed the door behind him, Baelon noticed Harry Hardyng straighten himself to a seating position.

“Mr Targaryen.”

“Baelon, please.”: Bae replied with more civility than he had ever bestowed upon Harry Hardyng. For all the reasons Baelon could possibly not like the man in front of him, he couldn’t overlook the fact that Harry had helped in keeping not only him and Oberyn alive but _her_ as well.

Once seated, he looked at the patient and continued: “I was informed that you woke up three days ago. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I hope you aren’t feeling too...” But the end trailed, not knowing how to continue.

Harry gave a small smirk: “No, I’m fine; had no amnesia after waking up, which is always good. Just a few broken ribs that are still mending, peeing into a bag and food tastes like Sandor’s cooking but apart from that I can’t complain.”

At the mention of his team member, Baelon inquired about his ex-bodyguard: “Anything new on Clegane’s condition?”

Harry shook his head looking more solemn: “No, still... _sleeping_. The Seven know he needs the rest.”

 

There was an awkward pause after that. Mainly due to the fact that Baelon wanted to ask about his _other_ team member, but didn’t know how to go about it. Thankfully Harry seemed to have read his mind:

“Jaq informed me that Merce brought both Mr Martell and yourself to one of the secret compounds in the Neck?”

Remembering that night, Baelon nodded looking at his feet. “Aye, and she nearly died in the process.”

The curiosity too great, Bae couldn’t stop himself from then asking: “... You wouldn’t happen to know... or at least have some ideas where she went, do you?”

Harry looked back at him for a long moment before replying: “What has Jaq told you?”

“Not much. Says he is still searching for her. If he knows where she is or if she is alive, he isn’t telling me. But he did give me all the files on her at least: Lyanna’s, Mercedene Black’s, even some from before joining the _Facelesses_.”

Harry looked at him in surprise but didn’t comment, letting Bae continue: “My friends at the Nights Watch have found no new leads. They looked through all the data House of Black and White sent over. I, myself, have been over and over everything about her that I could find... I...I even burst into Podrick Payne’s house and scared the living shit out of him demanding answers.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow, as Baelon saw his lips twitch: “Really?... Did he tell you anything?”

Baelon only shook his head, still a little embarrassed about how he had treated Lyanna’s ex, or even how he had later gone to see Tyrion about her as well.

 

Thankfully, his discomforting thoughts were soon interrupted by Harry sighing: “Well can’t say Merce doesn’t have an effect on men.”

Looking at the ceiling, the wounded man continued: “I always hated you... well maybe no _hated_ , but envied you in that sense. From the first moment you looked at her from across the room, I knew you have fallen for her charm like many others. I shrugged at that: it had happened many times. In a way, it was one of the reasons she was there: to be the pretty face, the distraction. No, what killed me a bit inside was when she looked back at you, that first night, and every interaction you two had since. I’ve know Merce longer than most... more than seven years... and in all that time she had never looked at anyone the way she had looked at you. The way I had hoped she would one day look at me. She was affected by you like she hadn’t been by anyone else...though I never realised that it would make her run away. I assumed she would finally open to someone...even if it wasn't to me.”

– _She just wasn’t open enough with me... she still doesn’t trust me enough_... _she still ran from me_...

As if reading his thoughts, Harry added: “She cares for you. Probably more than you think. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have run. And, unfortunately, you won’t find her.”

At the comment, Baelon opened his mouth, about to ask, but Harry cut him off: “No, I don’t know where she is or any idea where she might be going. But she’s the best at what she does, and if she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be... She has more layers than an onion, and in seven years I only brushed the first few. So all I can say is good luck.”

 

 

 

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**_The previous week - Lannisport, Westernlands, Westeros_ **

 

 

The few people in the Westeros National Bank Finance Office of Lannisport not concentrating on their work were listening to the News being shown on screen:

‘.. _.documents and allegations of fraud have been brought up against Targaryen Corporation... Ms Daenerys Targaryen, Head of TC, has sent out a statement this morning saying: ‘Allegations against the Northern Branch are as ridiculous as they are untrue’...’_

With the recent turn of events, none but the front desk noticed the arrival of the dark Mercedes. The chauffeur deposited a tall, blonde woman wearing shades and her two Lannister Security bodyguards in front of the building, to soon be directed to a private meeting with one of the financiers.

 

Taking off her sunglasses, the woman spoke to the facing man: “I have a number of accounts at the Bank of Westeros I would like to transfer those accounts and convert them to bonds.”

“Naturally you have the clearing codes?”

“Naturally.”

“How many accounts will you be transferring?”

“27.”

The financier raised his eyebrows, looking at his watch: “This will take some time.”

“For which you will receive a full percent commission.”

“I will?”

“And it won’t be a waste of it.” The woman finished with a sultry smile on her red lips.

 

 

 

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**_Two days later [five days ago] - Departure Gate of Oldtown International Airport, Passport Control_ **

 

Passport:

_Surname : Hill_

_Given Names: Joy, Darlessa_

_Nationality: Westerosi_

_Date of Birth: 183 rd day of Summer, 2287 AC_

_Location of Birth: Crakehall, Westernlands, Westeros_

_Hair: Blonde_

_Height: 177 cm_

_Eye: Dark Brown_

 

 

 

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**_Three days later- Iron Bank of Braavos, Braavos, Free Cities, Essos_ **

 

A keyholder lead a tall blonde woman wearing shades and her bodyguard from the Unsullied Protection Agency through the halls of the Iron Bank until they finally reached one of the client chambers. The bodyguard deposited the large bag inside before removing himself from the room.

Inside the chamber, Ms Hill took a sip of the coffee offered, before opening the bag full of bonds.

Looking inside the bag from the bag to the woman, the keyholder asked: “How many of these would you like to convert for deposit?”

“All one hundred and fifty of them.”

Looking even more surprised at the bag, the man then quickly tried to clear his throat as he pulled out his calculator and made the conversion. The calculation done, he showed the result to the blonde woman, the calculator reading:

**_‘67 232 685 735.75’_ **

The woman gave a nod of approval, moving back into her chair: “That seems correct. The amount is to be transferred to three accounts: six percent into the first one, nine into the second and the rest into the last.”

Before the employee had a chance to ask, she continued, taking out the needed paperwork:

“Here at the details for all three accounts, as well as the signatures from all beneficiaries of all three accounts.”*

 

 

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**_Present day. The same evening, more or less at the same time as Baelon looking outside – Braavos, Essos [4 hours ahead of the Riverlands]_ **

 

It was raining in Braavos.

It seemed that the bad weather was the same everywhere, reflecting the sour mood of Izembaro. The black tinted car moved through the downpour and puddles till it reached the secured estate. Once inside the garage, a large burly man exited the vehicle before Izembaro followed.

 

Soon the Braavosi was inside his own apartments, heading for the living room to pour himself a large glass of scotch. It was only when he had the bottle open, the liquid just about to fall when he heard a distinctive ‘ ** _ting’_** behind him.

Alert, Izembaro quickly turned around, to then nearly drop his 18 year old bottle of scotch in shock, before giving a grimace to the figure hiding in the shadows of the adjoining room:

“Where the hell have you been?”**

The other person moved his arm the slightest amount before a small table lamp was turned on, only partially showing a tall, slim woman with blond hair.

She quirked her upper lip as she replied: “Enjoying death... apparently. Saw a few days ago that ‘Lyanna Winters’ was officially presumed dead, even though no body was found.”

Not amused by the response, Izembaro moved back to the scotch table and finally poured himself the drink he definitely needed.

 

Three fingers poured, Izembago sat in his leather sofa and finally looked back at the other person, who had now joined him in the living room.

Eyes locked in on his agent, he finally spoke once more:

“Of all the infinite variables of chaos that I pondered during today, the one that never crossed my mind was that you would be standing right in front of me this evening by your own choice.”

_Sip of scotch_

“You disappeared without a trace for over three weeks. I accused several of my best operatives of being incompetent.”

The woman gave a snort: “That is the crux problem: when it is one of your best that is the one doing the hiding.”

Frustration growing, he growled:

“Where the hell have you been? My top men weren’t able to find any trace of you for the past three weeks. Jacquen is furious, And that ‘Targaryen Prince’ is demanding to find you... wanted everything there is to know about you! He even has his friends from the Nights Watch continuing to look for you!”

Izembaro’s eyes narrowed as he added: “What _did_ you do to him?”

“Nothing.”

He sighed, taking another gulp from his glass: “You always did have an effect on men – even by doing _nothing_ – I’ll give you that.”

Ignoring the statement, she asked: “When you say ‘ _demanding to find you’_... ‘ _wanted everything there is to know about you’_...who do you mean by ‘ _you’_? Whose information did you give Mr Targaryen?”

Izembaro’s lip twitched, finally having the upper hand about something. But he could not lie, not to her, not after all these years, so he told her: “Gave him everything there is to know about ‘Mercedene Black’, including her past as ‘Alayne Stone’ and how she was found over the corpse of Petyr Baelish.”

“Anything else?”

“Just all her known aliases, ‘Lyanna Winters’ being the last one of course. Then there is the information about all the people she’s killed, the missions she’s done, the training she went through... not much else.”

As he took another sip, she stood there, going over his reply. The silence dragged on till Izembaro asked:

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“I’m here to make the magic deal.”

Izembaro frowned: “The ‘ _magic deal_ ’?”

“‘ _Nobody gets out_ ’, that’s what you told me all those years ago, when we first met. But there is _always_ a way out... a ‘ _back door_ ’... I want that back door.”

Intrigued by the turn in conversation, Izembaro asked: “And how do you propose to find this ‘back door’?”

“Every life has a price. ‘Lyanna Winters’ is presumed dead, which is fine, let’s keep her that way. ‘Alayne Stone’ has been presumed dead for years; let’s also keep it that way. But just in case, I’ll buy both their contracts – that of a low-born, shy secretary from White Harbour, and that of the bastard niece of Petyr Baelish. In addition to those two, I want to buy the contracts for both ‘Mercedene Black’ and ‘Sansa Stark’.”

“And what will you do then?”

“Once I have bought _my_ life, I plan to finally go live _my_ life.”

With a small pang of sorrow, he replied: “Do you even have a _life_ to go to? What about all your other lives?”

“We all have to decide for ourselves how much sin we can live with. I can live with a lot of scars. I will never forget them, but they were never _me_. "

“And are you going to give me a clue of what ‘ _you_ ’ actually entails?”

 

There was a small pause, before she finally answered: “Just follow the news, like everybody else.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - finance scenes inspired by the end scenes of the film ‘Girl With a Dragon Tatoo’
> 
> ** - Beginning of the Izembaro scene was inspired by the scene in ‘Skyfall’ between M and James Bond in her apartment.


	23. Chapter 21 – Proceedings and Disclosures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter gave me many headaches to write, and will warn that my business and finance knowledge is near none, but hopefully you’ll forgive me for any huge business mistakes (or inform me in the comments section. Also, hoping this chapter doesn’t seem too farfetched and you will enjoy; apologies if that is not the case. :) x

 

 

Baelon drew in a large breath of air...

... To then immediately regret the act as the stench filled his nostrils.

 

_Gods_... even inside the car the sink of the city was noticeable. – Just another reason why he had never liked the capital. Nearly a year in the North had made Baelon nearly forget how insufferable he found the blasted city.

He had flown from Riverrun to Kings Landing last night, but with the lateness of the hour and the many things he had gone through with Aegon and Oberyn as well as his lawyer during the day, he had been too dead to Westeros to really take care of such things. Except that this morning, with the noises and smells of the busy capital, there was no way to confuse where he was with any other city.

To his side was Grenn talking on the phone – with Pyp or Edd most likely. Jon couldn’t begrudge either of them for not being able to also come to King’s Landing with him for the hearing; no one it their right mind would come to this ghastly place. And he definitely could not behold Sam, who instead had gone from Riverrun to Oldtown a few days ago, where Gilly had given birth to their first son, Aemon Tarly.

 

For a fleeting moment Baelon wondered if Lyanna could have gone to Oldtown. For an important port city, it was actually quite detached from the rest of Westeros, and one could easily loose themselves in it, without detection. He highly doubted she was anywhere in the North or in the Riverlands, especially with the current news, and investigations concentrated in these areas. But any other part of Westeros was a possibility.

Jon let out a tried sigh, rubbing his face, trying to ease some of the tension that never seemed to leave him lately, as well as trying to stop the train his thoughts were going to once more...

He knew he should probably be focusing on the million other things going on in his life right now; unfortunately _she_ was never far from his mind... It had been another two weeks since ‘ _Lyanna Winters_ ’ had been officially pronounced dead, and there was still no news of her, but Jon was sure she was out _there_... _somewhere_...

Though that _somewhere_ was most likely not in Westeros; it was much more likely that she had found a way to travel across the Narrow Sea to Essos. At least, that was what both Jacquen and Harry Hardyng seem to think, and part of Jon couldn’t help but agree. Yet, that would not stop him from continuing to try and find her.

 

At the familiar ‘ _click’_ of the phone disconnecting, Jon looked over at Grenn, who was putting it in his jacket. Even if knowing the answer before he even asked, Jon still questioned the northerner:

“Anything?”

The expression on his friend’s face told him everything he needed to know:

“Sorry Jon.”

Jon was only able to give a small nod of between dejection and understanding before the car made a small jerk and stopped, indicating they had arrived.

 

Thankfully with the earliness of the hour and the fact that not many knew of the actual hour of his hearing, only a couple members of the press tried to question him or demand a comment, as Jon was moved swiftly from the car to inside the Dragon Dome* by his new security team.

Once inside, safe from the news cameras, Jon soon noticed the large presence of Stannis Baratheon, followed by his right-hand-man Davos Seaworth, joining them in the lobby.

Stannis gave Jon as well as Grenn his usual curt nod:

“Mr Targaryen. Mr Auroc.”

Whereas Davos actually gave Jon a smile with his greeting as well as one to Grenn:

“Good Morning Jon... Grenn.”

Jon’s lip twitched the slightest amount as he heard his lawyer give a small huff at the welcome. It didn’t matter that Jon had known Stannis – and in turn Davos – for over six years, the Stormland man would still be as gruff as ever, and found ‘ _overly friendly’_ actions unnecessary. Not that Jon really minded; Stannis’ straight-forward manner beat that of most people who would treat him like some kind of semi-god just because his last name was ‘ _Targaryen_ ’. Plus there was the added fact that Stannis was one of the best Seven-Gods-Damned lawyers, Westeros and Essos combined.

 

A few minutes later, the large doors to the Dome opened letting in a much more sombre than usual Oberyn Martell. Baelon briefly wondered if his uncle was more frustrated by the earliness of the hour, or the fact that he was still not used to or at all happy with having been forced a security team by Dany, ever since the train attack.

Thankfully on seeing Baelon, the Dornishman did seem to have some of his usual liveliness return and gave him his customary grin:

“Ah... if it isn’t the ‘ _most corrupt businessman in the whole of Westeros_ ’.”

Before Baelon could greet him in turn, Stannis interjected, with a grumble:

“We don’t have time for pleasantries and even less times for tasteless japes, Mr Martell. Do I need remind you that your nephew as well as the whole of Targeryan Corporation is being accused fraud as well as embezzlement and insider trading? Mr Targaryen’s hearing is to start in ten minutes in the Red Chamber; we best get a move on.”

Oberyn narrowed his eyes on Stannis but thankfully made no retorting comment. Baelon knew there was obvious tension, even possible animosity, between the Martells and the remaining Baratheon, as well as some between the other two Targaryens and Stannis, due to past history between the two families, but at least Dany and Aegon had made no comment in his choice of lawyer. Just as Bae made no comment to Dany and Aegon’s choice in lawyer - Varys – even though he had always felt ill-at-ease around the man. All the same, in both cases, neither could fault the other’s choice in lawyer as they were both more than competent, although their tactics were definitely very different.

With the reminder of his possible impending doom, the group (-followed by both Baelon and Oberyn’s security men-) made their way past the circular atrium, to one of the halls, leading to the different Chambers.

 

On the way down, as Stannis went over last minute reminders with him, Baelon couldn’t help but hope that Aegon would be already inside the Chambers, as he had not been at the flat this morning.

As for Dany, Bae knew that she was already in a meeting with the Commission... _or was it with Westeros Home Land Security... or the Kingsguard...?_... _So many meeting_. - As much as he hated his current situation, Baelon couldn’t envy Dany’s: she had had twice as many meetings and hearings as him, and had already returned to Kings Landing a week ago.

 

 

Stannis was in the middle of probing the fraud allegations, when Grenn hit Jon on the shoulder, interrupting with a peculiar babble: “ _Jon- Jon_... It’s... It’s... It’s _her_...”

Irritated from the disruption as well as his friend’s ineptness, Jon growled in return: “What do you mean ‘ _it’s her_ ’, concentrate Grenn! We need to focus on the hear-“

Looking at something, or someone in the distance, his friend insisted: “-Jon, shut the fuck up and _look_.”

Still frowning, Jon followed his friend’s gaze down another hallway...

... And then suddenly the whole scene fell into slow motion, as he felt as if all the air left his body.

It was as if the Gods, Old and New, were mocking him, because right there, half way down another corridor was _Lyanna_.

Her hair was a much lighter auburn colour than he remembered and her clothes seemed to be much more high-end than the ones she had worn as Roose Bolton’s PA, but there was no doubt about it: he had spent too long looking over every file, every picture... as well as remembering every curve and blemish of her body, that he was a hundred percent certain it was _her_ :... Lyanna Winters... Mercedene Black... Alayne Stone... the woman who had haunted him since he had first seen her... the woman he had been searching relentlessly for the last month and a half.

Jon literally stopped in the middle of the hallway, his gaze transfixed on the woman, his mouth mostly likely gaping.

Then, as if sensing his gaze on her, her head turned slightly from the people were surrounding her, and those stunning light blue eyes met his silver-grey ones. Jon felt like the last thirty-nine days had never happened, as if she was still in his arms, them both lying naked in her bed...

There was a glimmer of sorts in her eyes as they met; but it was not surprise... there was recognition... and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on...-

\- And then, the contact was broken, her eyes moving away, back to one of the people talking to her. The noise surrounding him came back into focus, Stannis blunt voice calling to him, clearly having been trying to get his attention for the past minute or so:

“Mr Targaryen... _Jon_!! Your meeting is in five minutes; we cannot arrive late!...”

Heart beating loudly against his ribcage, only half listening to Stannis, he watched as Lyanna disappeared at the turning at a corner, before he faced Grenn, gritting out:

“ _Follow_ _her_. Do. Not. _Fucking_. Loose. _Her_.”

His friend only gave him a small nod, before chasing down the corridor Lyanna had been.

 

 

His thoughts still reeling on having just seen Lyanna, Jon was not sure how he managed to arrive at the chamber or how he had been able to stop himself from going after her. - A perverse part of him actually wondered if he had actually seen her, or if it was his mind that had been so in need to see her that he had just conjured her image.

Mind still buzzing, it actually took him a moment to realise some of the other men that where waiting inside the Chamber, including a few northerners, namely Roose Bolton and Walder Frey. Matters did not improve when Roose Bolton had actually the gall to greet him:

“Mr Targaryen, I was so relieved when I heard that you had survived the Northern Train Attack and then had even fully recuperated from your injuries.”

Baelon felt his jaw clench as he glared back at the man. - _You fucking ass! – I know it was you that set it up_!

He had seen not two days ago the final figures from the devastating incident: fifteen dead, including Wendel Manderly, Jon Umber Jr, Dacey Mormont, one of the Pas: Mary Smith, ... that with the added fact that many were still being treated for severe injuries; Harry Hardygn was still in the hospital and Sandor Clegane was still in a coma, them being only two of that long list. Baelon was more than relieved that his own PA – Mrs Cynthia Teal, a woman of fifty plus years - was thankfully alright, had only been mainly shaken by the Attack, and was now recuperating back in the North with her family.

 

After a long pause, Baelon gave a tight smile: “Yes well it takes more than an ill-fated explosion and couple bullets to stop me.”

The pale man’s thin lips quirked as he replied: “I’m glad to hear it.”

Not wanting to spend anymore tine near Bolton, and possibly do something that would definitely not help his inquest, Baelon moved past him to join Stannis and Davos at the defendant’s table. Relief ran through him when Baelon noticed that Aegon was also there.

 

 

Baelon barely concentrated as the hearing started, his mind filled with a mix of thoughts of how to kill both Frey and Bolton in the most painful of ways and, on a more upbeat note, the fact that he had actually just seen Lyanna, right there, in the same building as him, not ten meters from him a few moments ago!

Thankfully the team, especially Stannis and Davos, were more than prepared, and the hearing seemed to proceed alright without him giving his full attention; Davos or Aegon being able to subtly get his attention when it was his turn to speak.

 

It was only when the Chamber doors suddenly opened, nearly two hours into the hearing that his concentration was fully pulled into the present situation:

Much to the confusion - and in some cases irritation - of those present, Daenerys, Varys and the head of her security team, Barristan Selmy, as well as a fourth man Baelon did not know, entered and went straight down to the bench and request a side bar with the three judges of the Westerosi Finance Commission.

Confused by the whole action, as well as being at a total loss as to what Dany could be discussing in hushed voices with the Committee, Baelon turned his gaze from his aunt to his side to first notice Stannis grinding his teeth, clearly not liking the interruption, to then look at his half-brother; unfortunately Aegon, as well as the rest of the defence table, seemed as lost as him.

Finally after a long moment of silence, the hiatus seemed to have finally concluded and the head of the Committee, Judge Tycho Nestoris, spoke to the whole of those in attendance:

“Recent information has just been brought to the Committee, from the Westeros Home Land Security and the Kingsguard Intelligence Office**, which establish that the several allegations of fraud, embezzlement and insider trading against Mr Baelon Jon Targaryen, are no longer founded and in consequence are to be dismissed.”

At the statement and the following hitting of the gavel, Baelon could only blink in surprise whist quite a few within the chambers sputtered cries of protest, namely Walder Frey. On the other hand, he did notice that Roose Bolton remained silent.

During this time, Dany, Varys and Selmy moved to join them at the defence table. As she was seating herself, Aegon was the first to ask:

“What was that all about: what did you say to them?”

Baelon could have sworn that Dany’s eyes flicker to him worriedly before she answered:

“I will tell you later.”

Baelon felt his jaw clenched jaw – _always being kept out of the loop_...

However before Aegon or he could question Dany any further, Judge Nestoris banged the gavel several times demanding order.

 

Ignoring Frey’s as well as others indignation, the Head of the Committee continued by stating:

“-However, there is still the question of the general management of TC, namely the seat in Winterfell, known as the TC Northern Branch, to be now addressed.”

 

_What. The. Fuck...?_

There was a pause; both Bae and Aegon gaped whilst Dan only blinked showing her own surprise at the statement, before she stood up:

“Excuse me Your Honour, could you please specify what you meant by: ‘ _the question of the general management of Targaryen Corporation, the Northern Branch, to be now addressed_ ’?”

“Ms Targaryen, due to recent events, it has come to the Commission’s attention the extent of Targaryen Corporation’s influence on not only the Northern Exportation Market but also Westeros as a whole.”

His own mind reeling at the answer, Baelon was still able to detect the soft growl coming from his aunt. Mostly having heard it as well and sensing Dany’s anger rising, Varys was quick to be the one to address the Committee this time:

“Your Honour, could we be given the exact nature of the claims put forth?”

“Of course: the Commission have found it not only necessary to look into the Winterfell Headquarters’ efficiency and general management, but also the Targaryen family’s hold on Northern business, concerned with such a Southern based company’s notion of northern views, and also the near monopoly Targaryen Corporation seem to have on the Westerosi Exportation Market.

With the sheer importance of TC influence on the current Finance Market, the Commission would be in right to be concerned by the possible effects and ramifications that could happen within the next few years on the Financial Market of the North as well as Westeros’, caused by not only after the unfortunate incident that happened the 126th of Winter, but also the fact that not only the Head of the Winterfell Headquarters was attached to damning allegations but that Targaryen Corporation as a whole has still not been fully exonerated from all charges of malpractice.

I might even add that the fact that most of the branches being directed by one of the three Targaryens or by someone somehow linked with their family, does seem like quite a lot of money and power to so few people. Nor does it bode well to know that neither Ms Daenerys Targaryen, nor Mr Aegon Targaryen had lived in the North, and Mr Baelon Targaryen had only stayed one year previous to starting as director of the Branch.”

 

There was a small pause where Baelon was pretty every TC member at his table had lost the power of speech, before Judge Nestoris finished by adding:

“For these reasons the Finance Commission feels that the best recourse would be that TC Winterfell Headquarter relieve some of their contracts to more local companies, to allow them to be more present in the Northern Export Market. There would be a direct contact between these companies and Targaryen Corporation of course, as these would still be Targaryen Corporation originated contracts but would alleviate on the possible negative fallout on the Financial Market.

Of course to help with the transition of the distribution of these contracts, the Commission would require that the companies have prior knowledge and would even be share holders of Targaryen Corporation Northern Branch Office, who know firsthand the different contracts of the company.”

 

Giving a brief glance at Frey and Bolton, Baelon tried to process what exactly what happening.

Part of him knew that the Finance Commission had every right to look into TC’s practices, and worry about the possible outcomes of what the last two months would bring to the financial market.

However another part of him was more than sure that somehow the Freys and the Boltons were behind this. If TC Northern Headquarters would be forced to ‘ _share’_ its contracts and another company was asked to be more ‘ _present’_ in the Northern Export Market: in other words TC, or at least the Northern Branch would be more vulnerable to a hostile takeover – especially by members who already had shares in the Winterfell Branch.

Moreover, he knew that Roose Bolton, and mostly likely Walder Frey knew about his identity as Jon Snow, however were mostly using to their great advantage the fact his past as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch was classified for National Security – and in that case yes it did basically mean that none of the Targaryens seemed to really know anything about Northern Culture. It also did not help that even less people knew that his mother was actually Northern.

 

Before his thoughts could continue though, the Chamber doors were opened once more, this time by Tyrion and the man who had already previously entered with Dany, Selmy and Varys. - Baelon hadn’t even realised that the fourth man had left the Chambers after the previous side-bar, but then again with everything else in his mind it would probably have been a miracle if he had noticed.

 

He was obviously not the only one confused by Tyrion’s sudden presence and interruption in the Chambers as most, including the three members of the Commission looked, at him sceptically as he stated:

“Gentlemen, ladies, forgive the irruption as well as my lateness to the meeting; I had not realised that the issue of the Northern Market with relation to Targaryen Corporation would start so early... I have only just been informed to the adjustment.”

The Head of the Commission replied with a barely veiled note of irritation:

“Not that it’s any of your concern but the meeting was pushed forward, as the first motion, was resolved more swiftly than anticipated. May I ask why you are here Mr ...?”

“Maester*** Lannister, Tyrion Lannister. It is my understanding that several companies, including Bolton Trading, and Frey Industries have made their interests known as to being potential companies Targaryen Corportaion would have to share their Northern contracts with-“

“-That is privileged information, _Maester_ Lannister, as well as the fact that this is a private hearing only key share holders of Targaryen Corporation or Targaryen Corporation Northern Branch are welcome to.”

“Yes, I am aware of the nature of the meeting and its requirements; as my client does hold over thirty percent of the shares for TC Northern Branch, I do believe I would be welcome at such a _private_ hearing.”

Baelon blinked – as did Dany, Aegon and probably most of the room.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes quite a hefty amount that adds up to...”

Walder Frey, eyes narrowed on the small man interjected:

“What do you mean ‘ _represent your client_ ’? It was my belief that you were a professor at the Citadel... I didn’t realise that teacher’s dealt into corporate trading?”

“Yes, Mr Frey you are indeed correct. However, my father as loving and generous as he was, did not think that a career teaching the bright young minds of tomorrow at the Citadel was a suitable enough career for a Lannister, especially his own son. So he was quite insistent I take the Westerosi Bar Exam, on the off chance that I ‘ _finally came to my sense and became a lawyer_ ’. – Never have I ever been grateful that my father forced me to do something I had no interest in doing.”

At the statement, he had continued to move down the central corridor to the Commission and presented them with what Baelon could only assume was his licence to practice law and other possible credentials.

Arnolf Karstark scoffed: “So the trust fund has finally hit rock bottom that you now need two jobs to pay for your whores?”

Tyrion only spared the man a quick glance:

“If you must know, I am here as a favour to my client. As for my money, you must have me confused with one of my siblings: not that it is any of your business I have never received a penny from my father, but I am just as good as he is in knowing where to invest my money. Even without the inheritance I should have received upon his death, I can assure you I am really well off: Tywin Lannister isn’t the only one who is good with his gold. - Though I will confess that I do have certain interests in my client’s company, and do hope that my investment will be beneficial, as I did agree to sell my shares of Lannister Global for this to happen.”

This time it was Emmon Frey-Lannister who gaped: “This is impossible.”

“Actually you’ll find that it is… _uncle_. I have never been interested in my father’s business, the world knows of the relationship we had; so I never used the shares given to me by my mother. Until now.”

“What have you done?”

He spoke to Emmon Frey as if he were a simpleton he was explaining basic mathematics to a child:

“Like I said before, my client contacted me about this venture and required my assistance; I was only too happy to help in a very good business proposition offer.”

 

Clearly wanting to get back on track, Judge Nestoris spoke:

“And who exactly are you representing Maester Lannister?”

“Stark Holdings.”

This time in was Walder Frey who spurted out in shock, whilst others gaped:

“STARK HOLDINGS!?! What is the meaning of this?! Is this some kind of joke?”

Tyrion’s calmness continued, whilst Jon’s own heart started to beat all that much faster at the answer:

“I assure you this is no joke.”

“You expect us to believe that you merged your shares of Lannister Global with Stark Holdings? There is no possible way this is true: the only two living Starks are under the Guardianship of Mr Edmure Tully, and he would not deal with any Lannister in a thousand years, especially _not_ Tywin Lannister’s own son.”

“Actually that’s where you are wrong; my client is actually the main action holder of Stark Holdings. It’s only very recently that she has decided to come back to the market work. I have-“

This time in was Dany who spoke, clearly interested, whilst Jon had still lost the power of speech and his body was becoming more and more numbing – a dark feeling looming within him:

“Stark Holdings would be interested in conjunction with Targaryen Corp?”

“Yes, Ms Targayren, as previously state my client has quite a sizeable share in the Winterfell Headquarters and is also very much interested in expanding in the Northern Market, regaining some of the former buisness Stark Holdings use to have in the North.”

With that he reached in his satchel and produced several copies of a stack of papers, handing some to Dany and others to the Committee.

There was a small pause of silence, before Roose Bolton finally spoke, in equal calmness to Dany, eyes fixed on Tyrion:

“And how exactly are you linked with Stark Holdings?”

“I own shares, within the company, but I assume my most important link is through my wife.”

Walder Frey, clearly not as good as keeping his calm as Roose Bolton, barked out: “What do you mean your wife, _what wife_?”

 

Jon felt like more and more like he had entered the Twilight Zone, as the strange feeling within him continued to grow... with the statement and then Frey’s question he remembered Tyrion once telling Oberyn and himself that in fact Tyrion had for the last nine years been married to...

“- _Sansa Stark_.”

Mind buzzing, body numb, he hadn’t realised he had said it out loud till Tyrion turned his attention directly on Jon and smiled:

“Quite so, Mr Targaryen.”

 

At the response, quite a few eyebrows rose, whilst Arnolf Karstark gave a snort:

“Sansa Stark is dead.”

Tyrion gave him a dry laugh: “Well, if she is, you should inform the Wills, Trust and Inheritance Office that I’m a widower...” before he turned to the man that had obviously come to retrieve him: “... and you should probably talk with Ser Arys Oakheart that the K.I.O, and probably also someone from the Westeros Home Land Security that the person they have been working with for the last six years and who the Iron Bank, the Westeros National Bank Finance Office and Westeros Finance Commission have been treating with from the past two weeks is an imposter...” he then looked down at his watch, before finally adding: “... You might also want to inform the media, as I think she is about to hold her press conference. I would have been there of course, if I hadn’t been wasting time explaining my life story to you.”

This time it was Walder Frey who barked out: “ _What_ press conference?”

“Haven’t you been listening: Sansa Stark... well actually _my_ lovely Sansa has finally decided to show her beautiful face to the realm once more, after having been working with Westeros Home Land Security and the Kingsguard Intelligence Office for the past six years building a case against the people involved with all the wrongs her family has suffered.”

 

\- - -

 [](http://s284.photobucket.com/user/shortsandramblings/media/Characters%2001%20Trial_zpsnushso1c.jpg.html)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Dragon Dome of Justice replaced the ruins of the Dragonpit Dome on top of Rhaenys’ Hill
> 
> ** Kingsguard Intelligence Office (K.I.O.) => Westeros equivalent to the F.B.I. / M.I.5
> 
> *** Maester = Westeros equivalent to doctorate


End file.
